Badger Company
by Spartan111MS
Summary: There was naught but scorched earth and irradiated pools of water before us. Dead trees-mutated beasts-raiders-slavers-Enclave-Brotherhood-Outcasts, Wastelanders one and all. This was a new world; this was now our reality. No turning back, only forwards. Only time would tell if we would succeed, or if the Wasteland would swallow us up like every poor soul who sought to change it.


_**Badger Company **_

_Fallout Original Fanfiction_

_By: Spartan111MS_

_Chapter 1 _

_**Intro**_

_**(Arc: 1 [Vault])**_

(Play Fallout 3 Main Theme Extended)

_How does life begin?_

_Is it a fact of random chance, a successful possibility within a sea of failure? _

_Is it Instinct? A fact of life and an ever-present solution?_

_Perhaps…it was a choice, a conscious decision, the belief of the inevitable clause that life comes from life itself?_

_But then, is our existence the result of the actions of a single entity, or of many?_

_The results of the many, or of the privileged few?_

_Was it they who gave us form?_

_Or we unto them?_

…

_Perhaps…_

_We came about from which all else seems to follow…_

_War…_

_"War…War never changes. Since the dawn of human kind, when our ancestors first discovered the killing power of rock and bone, blood has been spilled in the name of everything, from God to justice to simple, psychotic rage."_

_"In the year 2077, after millennia of armed conflict, the destructive nature of man could sustain itself no longer. The world was plunged into an abyss of nuclear fire and radiation. However, it was not, as some had predicted, the end of the world. Instead, the apocalypse was simply the prologue to another bloody chapter of human history. For man had succeeded in destroying the world - but war, war never changes."_

_"In the early days, thousands were spared the horrors of the holocaust by taking refuge in enormous underground shelters, known as vaults. However, when they emerged, they had only the hell of the wastes to greet them - all except those in Vault 101. For on the fateful day, when fire rained from the sky, the giant steel door of Vault 101 slid closed... and never reopened. It was here you were born. It is here you will die. Because, in Vault 101: __**'No One Ever Enters and No One Ever Leaves.'**__"_

{-}

…_**Nothing…Void…Darkness…Death…Black…Shadow…The Beginning… Alpha…The End… Omega…Everything…**_

_What is the Void? Is it an absence of matter, or simply an absence of self? How is it perceived without something which to compare it to? So, can void only exist when there is something else present? Is that why, no matter how far into the void you throw your gaze, there is star to guide upon? That no matter how dark it gets, there is always a light to cling to?_

_Perhaps…_

_You simply need to find it first…_

* * *

(-)

Darkness

It surrounds us, smothers us, it is what we first perceive in our frail existence. But it is in this darkness that we grow, it is in this darkness that we find not cold, but warmth. It is in the darkness that we are comforted, and kept safe.

But this darkness recedes; it fades and gives way to the light. The light which bares us unto the world, exposes us, blinds us to the dangers that are now present at every turn. It does not comfort us as the darkness once did, it does not protect us behind which the enemy cannot see. It shuns us, burns us, forces us to cast our eyes away, never to view it, to embrace it as the darkness once did.

It taints us, forces us to be. Never again can we return to darkness we once knew, never again can we feel such comfort, never again can we be _safe. _Now we can only adapt, adapt as the light forces us to, to the hunger, the scalding heat, the icy cold, _the danger_. To the new darkness that finds us. The darkness that is cold and unforgiving. The darkness that embraces us, not as its own, _but_ _as its prey! _So we must fight!

We must fight with the light against this new foe that seeks to consume us, and when we have emerged victorious, when we have forced it to submit, we shall create our own! Our own warmth that chases away the cold! _Our_ comfort and _our_ safety to spread as we please! _Our Fear_, _our Wrath_ to seed amongst our enemies! We will recreate the darkness! The entity meant to _smother_ you in fear, and _entrap_ you within its mazes, but as well a _Protector_! That which _gives_ you _comfort_ and allows you to _rest_ soundly from the _trials_ of the _light!_

For it is _our_ darkness, and when we _embrace_ it, _neither_ side _can_ _stop_ us.

_-Unknown_

* * *

{-}

_Place/Time: Unknown_

_Area: Unknown_

_Subject: Unnamed _

The cry of a child…

Quite a wondrous thing isn't it? It is the announcement of a new life, the proclamation of another being brought kicking and screaming into this world. So much untapped potential, so many untold possibilities…

But is also an admission, a probable tragedy. The Devil's due must be paid to the boatman, and today…it is paid in full.

* * *

{-}

_Place/Time: *error* AreaTimeDateERROR *error*_

_Est… 1/1/01…11:15_

_Subject: Mikhail Jaeger_

The light returns, a burning, searing pain that erupts within delicate retinas, forcing small chubby hands to come up and attempt to rub the pain away. Slowly, as the pain fades, the infant child looks up at the crouched figure a short distance on the opposite end of the room. He is a familiar sight, one which he has seen constantly almost every day in his short existence, but he is not the one. Not the one whose scent he longs for from the residual tethers at the beginning of his memory. The scent that he clings to desperately within his dreams. A combination of scents that blended together, none of which he has found since waking here, and so desperately searches for. A soft, dry comforting scent, mixed in with acrid waft that burns the throat, and a sharp tang that buzzes the tongue.

"Don't look straight into the light pal. You'll hurt your eyes. It's just something you have to get used to down here…"

That voice…is it a warning, a lesson…both? The infant cocks his head slightly at the trailing end of the words, the submerged emotions and quiet sigh supposedly seen within the deceptively perceptive gaze. A hint? He wishes to know more, but cannot ask, and in an instant the thought flutters away to be replaced by several others within the disorganized mind as a new stimulus attracts his attention. The strange one beckons…

"Come on over here, son. Come on! Walk to Daddy!"

He can hear the soft voice, and see the beckoning motions…a scooping motion that denotes the possibility of being cradled…but the large one does not approach, he stays in place and yet continues to make the motions. For a moment he is entranced by the movement, but that gives way to puzzlement, followed by sadness, before being replaced by determination.

He has watched with inquisitive eyes; he has seen how the large one moves. How he takes what he wants from where said object lays. There within his mind, the first true conscious thought forms. If you want something, you must take it, but in order to take something _you must move!_

And so he leans over, to take the position he used to move before, but it will not be high enough. In order to reach beckoning limbs, he must go higher, he must try harder. So he leans back, shifts his weight, and allows his body to settle into its new position. Muscles stretch with the unfamiliar strain, but focuses. He must try for his goal; he must reach it on his own.

And so…he takes the first step…

When he finally reaches his goal, the limbs come down, not to cradle, but to rest. He feels annoyed, cheated out of his expected prize. Then the voice speaks again, and eyes rise to meet those that demand attention.

"There you go! My goodness! Just a year old and already walking like a pro."

He can hear the tone of voice, the surprise, and the firmer tone that makes his back straighten a little more, makes his stance more assured…praise. That which would be few and far between, but the lessons learned all the more rewarding.

"Your mother would have been so proud."

There! That word again! The one linked to the scents, to the voice sometimes heard in dreams. He listens with rapt attention, for an infant anyway.

"Listen kiddo. I know you don't like it when daddy leaves you alone, but I need you to take care of yourself for a minute."

There! Another word that rings familiar! The words that promises sweet silence and a chance, the chance to explore! He turns eagerly after the departing figure, watching his progress towards the big yellow bar that moves the wall.

"You just stay here while Daddy runs to his office. You'll be okay pal. I'll be back in a bit."

With a hiss of moving metal he is gone. Now his adventure can begin anew. Perhaps he can find a way to the others that the large ones leave him with. He still had yet to beat the larger one at rolling on ground faster. Looking to his cage, he takes note of the small shiny bit of metal at eye level. He knows it is important, for whenever it makes its noise the cage is closed. So he approaches on unsteady feet. Approaches that which keeps him from freedom. The only obstacle in his path to Mr….!

_Click_

…Fiddlekins?

The door to the cage gives way as the light momentum is too much to stop with inexperienced feet. Stumbling through the gate, he makes his way to The Box. Perhaps today he will be able to get through the book with the pretty pictures before Daddy finds him.

* * *

(-)

He closes the small book before opening it once more. The pictures have him entranced with their colors, as Mr. Fiddlekins watches from his position propped up on The Box. The only hint that his exploring time may be over, is the sudden hissing sound of the yellow bar ascending once more, revealing the large one.

"Ha Ha Ha! You're quite the little explorer aren't you? Serves me right for trying to pen you in."

He listens to the voice, but he knows this tone! The one that promises that the large one will retreat into himself and stay quiet despite his best efforts.

"Come over here, I want to show you something."

The child turns to follow, confused at the unexpected reaction, and watches as the large one approaches the white speckled square that rests next to The Box.

"See that? It was your Mother's favorite passage. It's from the Bible. Revelation 21:6"

The word comes forth once more, and suddenly his attention is fixed up the Speckled White Thing. He plops himself down in front of the small Box and listens hard trying to gleam some sort of hint from the noise that is the voice.

"I am Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End. I will Give unto Him that is Athirst of the Fountain of the Water of Life Freely… She always loved that."

Mikhail looked up at his father as he stood once more and began to move towards the door.

"All Right. Come On. Let's go see if your little friends want to play…"

A wide smile stretches across the child's face, for now that he has learned to walk, he can finally compete with his eternal rival.

* * *

{-}

_Place/Time: 7/13/2268…11:15_

_Washington D.C., United States _

_Vault 101_

_Subject: Mikhail Jaeger_

_Age: 10_

"Are you sure about this Frank?"

I was walking slowly through the halls of the Vault after completing the experiment that my dad had left me. He called it a 'simple' test on how to keep water flowing in a repeating cycle without any machines. It took me a week to figure out that the concept of vacuum that he had had me read up on wasn't just to help him with the lights. It wasn't until I cut myself while measuring out the pieces needed that I found my solution. I was sitting in the Infirmary while dad patched me up when I saw Jonas filling a syringe with medicine for Old Lady Palmer's checkup. I don't know how that made sense, but it just clicked in my head.

Anyway, he had told me that if I had finished the experiment before my birthday, then he would give something special for my present. When I had finished, I used the Intercom to inform him of my solution, and he told me to meet him in the Mid-Level Café where we would have a light lunch before he took me over for my present. On the way I met my friend Frank, who I had known since well, ever. We used to wrestle as babies, even though he was a full year older than me and a good eight pounds heavier. Yet, I never got hurt during our play sessions unless it was self-inflicted cause I pushed too hard, or moved to fast and ended up hitting something.

Now, on our way to the Café, he was telling me about the surprise party that was planned for this afternoon during dinner.

"Yeah, yeah mate, don't worry. The worst that'll happen is that Butch somehow screws it up for you, but Adrian and I can take a look out for ya."

He was a good friend, and liked to joke quite a bit. He was sensitive to jokes made about him by his parents. He was never going to live '_Baby-Faced_ Frankie' down.

"Thanks…but what about Manuel?"

"He just feels sorry for Butch and keeps watch over _his_ mom for his mom. In for a penny, in for a buck you know?"

I shook my head slightly at the thought of another of my friends.

Manuel Saldivar was a strange one alright. Always looking at Pip-Boys, the service robots, and spending his time on computers whenever he could. The Grognak the Barbarian comic books that were so treasured by the other kids were completely uninteresting to him. He preferred his foreign monsters to a classic hero. I would never understand his fascination with this 'Godzilla'.

"Yeah, hopefully my dad doesn't try an pull a trick on me this time."

"Don't think so, but Paul said to keep an eye on Mr. Gutsy, his dad and Stanley were a bit iffy about his tune-up."

'Oh Paul', I thought with slight chuckle, 'Always watching out for the rest of us,'…whenever he's not nose deep in a book, or stumbling around after Christine 'Christie' Kendall. Born the same year I was, just a month and a half apart, our sandy haired compatriot had been close friends with her since they were born on the same day but a year apart. He always looked after her like a surrogate younger sister along with Christie's younger sibling Monica, but I had heard whispers from the other adults about them becoming something more when they got older, and that hopefully Mr. Kendall would approve. What this _more _was I had no idea, but I would look after my shy friend to see that he didn't lose his closest friend, especially not to her father.

Mr…_Officer_ Kendall was an okay guy, but he could be quite mean at times. He rarely listened to any explanation that wasn't from the Overseer or another Officer.

"What's the worst he can do? Destroy the cake?"

"Hey man! That's the most important part of the party!" Frank whined before shaking his head with a grin on his face. "Anyway, me an' Miller were helping out Old Lady Palmer with some backups just in case."

I looked at him incredulously, "Miller? And he didn't somehow set the water on fire?"

_Jonathan Miller_, I thought while rubbing my forehead slightly before dragging my hand over my face. He could set anything on fire, _anything._ It didn't matter if it was fireproof, on purpose, or by accident, he could set something on fire or make it explode. Even _water _wasn't safe. I had never really had burnt water before I met him.

Oddly enough he had possibly the greenest thumb out of the majority of the Vault next to his mother. He constantly spent his time in the Greenhouse growing his plants. It was said that the Vault had been out of Mint for _50 years _before he found a small dying spindle under one of the flower-bushes. Two weeks later and we had a patch of dirt dedicated to growing mint for tea, flavoring, and some medicine that Manny's mom came up with as an alternative for stress relief and nausea. Butch's mother was a constant consumer whenever she tried to sober up, but she usually fell after a month or so. You'd never think that Butch could have a smile on his face as when his mother was sober, or so determined to help her when she started falling again. Hopefully he never stops trying.

"Ha ha! Don't worry, _most_ of them shouldn't explode in your face." He continued with a glint in his eye. The worst part was, I couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

We turned the corner that led up to the Café and shortly before we reached the door, I could see that the lights were off.

_Welp,_ I thought depressingly, _There goes any hope of Dad not screwing with me today._

I resigned myself to my fate as I reached the door and glanced over at Frank. He stopped a step behind me, and a bit to the side of the door with an annoyed expression, but a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He knew well in advance to get away from me when my father is in question. The pranks usually have collateral damage of a _personal_ nature. Taking a deep breath just in case this particular one smelled, I straightened my shoulders and opened the door.

* * *

(-)

_Pain…_

Spots swam before my eyes as I blinked furiously and rubbed my eyes hard to rid myself of them. I needed to get my sight back quickly to dodge whatever was most likely coming at…

"SURPRISE!"

I stopped rubbing my eyes and slowly started to look up while lowering my hands, there's no way my dad would have included that many people in his prank…

"Stanley, you turned on the light too fast. You blinded the poor kid."

_Officer Gomez?_

I kept blinking the spots away to get a better view on what was going on, but I already had a good idea.

"Happy Birthday!"

_Yep…_

"Can you believe it? He's growing up so fast!"

_Mrs. Palmer?_

I looked around at the collection of people before looking back at Frank, did he know about this?

…

Based on his confused expression, and his attempts to rub away the temporary blindness I guess not. They probably knew he was going to tell me and so gave him the wrong time…but how did they know he'd run into me?

Looking to the bar area of the Café I saw my good friend Adriansky sipping away at a glass of water with a smirk on his face.

_The sneaky bastard probably let them know that Frank was with me._

Turning my attention back to the person directly in front of me, I looked up into the twinkling eyes of my father, his annoying smile plastered over his face and his arms crossed either to hide whatever was in his hands, or his twitching hand which is the hint that there's something more. Until he relaxed I would have to be on guard.

"Happy Birthday pal! I can't believe that you're already ten. I am so proud of you."

_Oh really? That smirk says that while the statement may be true, there something more tugging at his voice._

"If only…"

He stopped mid-sentence at the Overseer's approach, but I already knew the words that would have come next.

_Mother…_

I turned my gaze towards the Overseer as he walked into arms reach. He had both hands behind his back, most likely with my Pip-Boy, and a relaxed expression on his face. He gave his usual speal about coming of age, which I heard three times before from a couple of other parties, before presenting my model to me.

_A 3000A(X2) model huh? Tough, reliable, damn near indestructible. Known for their ability to store large amounts of data, easy to upgrade with the proper parts, relatively light, and a forward facing flashlight._

_I'm surprised I didn't get a regular 3000A model, I probably owe Manny and Stanley a few favors._

As the Overseer walked away, I turned back to my father who still had that insufferable smirk on his face.

"Enjoy your party. You're only ten once."

He unfolded his arms and gave me a light tap on the head before walking over to Stanley at the bar. Not bothering to watch him go I lowered my eyes to the person who had been standing behind my father until now.

_Amata Almodovar…_

This girl was the Overseer's daughter, and also happened to be one of my closest friends. Her soft brown hair and hazel eyes reminiscent of an old picture I once saw of her mother. After losing her mother shortly after she turned two, I guess you say that we drew closer due to our common ground, much to her father's ire. She sort of fell into my rough-n-tumble group of friends as the years went by, carving out her own place, the only girl in the group. Some of the adults had looked at her oddly, but when asked what she was doing hanging out with boys in the majority of her free time, she said that she was looking out for us, making sure we didn't get into too much trouble.

She was the supervisor/mother of the group. I led most of the time, and provided insight into any plans that the others tried to make. Paul was our resident researcher, Manuel-the techie, Adrian was my second in command and reconnaissance expert, Frank was our muscle, and Miller?

I took a quick glance at Miller as Amata began to speak. He had a worried look on his face as he sat in front of Old Lady Palmer, gently poking at a sweetro…

_Bamf!_

His hand remained outstretched as he blinked to get the frosting off of his eyes, the entire upper portion of his body covered in the remains of the sugary pastry.

_Yeah…_

Looking back at Amata I raised an eyebrow and she just shrugged her shoulders.

"He wanted to help…anyway!" She shook her head and smiled at me eager to change the subject, her arms behind her back in a mirror image of her father. She did a small hop to close the small distance between us and leaned forward slightly so that I looked down on her slightly as I leaned away from her close proximity.

"Happy birthday! We really surprised you didn't we?"

"Well y…"

"Ha ha ha! You dad was afraid you were onto us, but I told him not to worry. You were so easy to fool!" She gloated before sticking her tongue out at me and hopping back, her smile growing even wider as my eyebrow continued to rise. She then continued just as I opened my mouth to reply.

"You expected to get had by your ol' dad didn't you? That was the beauty of my plan!" she exclaimed as she began to prowl around me, the rest of the adults looking on in amusement. Once Amata got on a roll, it took quite a bit to stop her. "You were so focused on avoiding whatever you thought your dad had planned for you that you didn't expect this didja'?"

"A…"

"Hey! I bet you can't guess what I got you for your birthday! Come on guess!"

I waited a moment to see if I would actually be able to get a word off before I opened my mouth again.

"I really have no idea…" I trailed off. I had not planned for this, nor had I expected it. Well, I had expected it, just not this soon, and that threw me for a loop as now I had to rethink my strategy for dealing with my dad's inevitable prank.

"Ha! Who's your favorite barbarian?" My eyes widened…

_She didn't…_

"That's right, Grognak! Issue 14, and with no missing pages!"

She was absolutely beaming at my dumbfounded expression, and I was positive that I heard another sweet-roll explode, as well as a glass being dropped. I was stunned to say the least. The majority of the Grognak Comic books that were in the Vault Library were used and several had missing pages, but there was usually a copy of the same issue that had those pages, but were missing others. Issue 14 however, was the final issue of the Grognak Home-front series. There were only 3 known copies in the entire Vault and all were missing the last 8 pages or more. It was the conclusion of his journey into the Lair of the Virgin Eater and detailed his later exploits before the beginning of the Trials of Retribution series. Issue 14 was absolutely essential to discovering the fate of Grognak's trusty steed, and how he killed the accursed Beast of the East.

As she pushed the still plastic wrapped issue into my frozen hands, she laughed a bit before explaining that she had found it in a box of her father's old things along with several unfinished replicas of the issue. He had apparently attempted to hand-make new copies when he was younger, but lost interest and forgot about the project. I looked over to the man and saw him smiling at me.

"I expect that I can trust you to complete my little endeavor Young Man?"

I nodded quickly before placing the copy into my satchel, which hung across my shoulder. I placed the comic between two other hard-cover books that I carried with me, and buckled the satchel tightly closed. I would do my best to prevent any damage from coming to so precious a treasure.

"Well I better let you get back to _mingling_ with your guests." She continued, her eyes twinkling with laughter at my actions. "We'll talk some more later, okay? Happy Birthday."

"Thanks," I replied as she all but skipped away to go get a drink from the bar area. Feeling a pair of eyes on me I look over to see Paul Hannon giving me a sideways look before muttering under his breath, "I wish I was ten."

I shook my head before walking over to Paul and giving him a glance, "Are you that eager to get working Paul?"

His eyes darted up as I pass him and he started to stutter, "I mean…uh…thanks for…uh…you know Butch…"

Shaking my head to get rid of the crick that's starting to form, I pat Paul on the shoulder before passing, "Stay out of trouble Hannon."

I could've sworn I saw his already dark face get darker with embarrassment, but I had already passed on and stopped next to Mrs. Palmer, with a cringing Miller wiping away at his face to clear up all the frosting from his failed pastries.

Nodding to Mrs. Palmer I reached over to grab one of the pastries that were lying on a large platter before her. Allowing my hand to hover over one of the top ones I gave her a sidelong glance, she slowly shook her head before nudging her head slightly to the right. Nodding in thanks I changed my target and took one of the ones on the outer ring of the platter. I could clearly hear Miller groan before planting his head into the table. Mrs. Palmer let loose a small chuckle before looking at me as I slowly ate the sweet-roll.

"Are you having a nice party? Ten years old, my, my, my. Seems like only yesterday that your daddy came… Goodness! Listen to me ramble. Anyways, are you enjoying your gift?"

I nodded slowly before turning at the sound of a whirring saw blade.

"Time to cut the cake!"

At that simple declaration a sense of foreboding flooded through me. I suddenly wanted to get as far from the cake as possible.

_ZZZZZZzzzshhhjkkkkk!_

_Yep, definitely something wrong with the tune-up. Good thing there's a backup…_

Butch Deloria stood up from his sitting position with his mouth open in an expression of horror. "That damn robot ruined the cake!" I was just polishing off my sweet-roll when he stomped around his table and stopped before us. "Give me a sweet-roll!" he demanded before simply taking one from the top of the stack.

Looking over at Miller I could see his expression somewhere between hope, and apprehensiveness as Butch lifted the sweet-ro…

_Bamf!_

Flinching slightly at my close proximity to the exploding pastry, I took a peek at Miller's expression to see his face fighting between a half-smirk and a heavy frown.

_Yeah…that backup's a bit of a mixed blessing…_

Scooting away before Butch could vent his anger at the explosive pastry on the closest meat bag (me), I made my way over to the bar area where Adrian was wiping away cake from the front of his jumpsuit, Stanley was holding his head and quietly sipping at his water, and my father was lowering a plate which was splattered with a smattering of cake.

Taking a seat next to Stanley, I watched as Adrian smirked at me before getting up to get himself a sweet-roll. '_I wonder how many of those things Miller had a hand in making,'_ I asked myself before turning back to Stanley as Adrian stopped to poke some fun at the still frosted Butch.

"Hey Stanley, was it you who fixed up this old thing?"

Pulling his head out of his hand, Stanley glanced sideways at me before smiling. "As a matter of fact I was. Does it fit alright," he asked, waiting for my nod before continuing. "Some say that the A series is too basic, but I've always preferred them for their reliability. I managed to find that _3000 (X2) _model in an old crate of parts and assembled it to factory standard, plus a few extra widgets. If you end up anything like your father, you'll need the options." Sighing, he slowly stood up from his chair, planting his empty glass on the bar. "Anyway, I'm glad you like it, now if you'll excuse me I need to go re-calibrate Mr. Handy again. There's no way I'm letting him keep his medical subroutines like this."

Walking behind the bar, he started to open a panel in the robot's back casing before turning to me again. "In fact, why don't you see if you can find Manny and ask him if he wants to take a look at how to reprogram a Mr. Handy?"

"Yes sir." I replied before starting to turn away, only to get blinded by something settling over my eyes. Startled I reached up to rip it off before hearing, "Happy Birthday kid," from behind me. After slowly removing the offending object I found it to be a baseball cap, only it had an adjustable buckle strap and was colored with mottled dark grey and green patches. The colors seemed to swim together and distort the outline of the cap, making it seem smaller and larger at the same time. Shaking my head at the optical illusion I opened my satchel to put it away. "Found this thing with the spare parts along with a hat that was colored the same way, and some sunglasses. But I think those can wait hmm? Maybe as a reward for passing your G.O.A.T when you're older?"

I could almost hear his teasing smirk as I packed the cap into my satchel. If I wasn't careful I would probably lose it in a shadow somewhere.

"You think so huh!"

Turning quickly, I spotted Butch confronting Adrian, who was holding a Sweet-roll in one hand while raising the other in surrender and shaking his head slightly as he backed away from the enraged boy. I could see Officer Gomez getting up from his seat at one end of the café, and Butch started to reach for the pocket of his jumpsuit. As I moved forward, I could see Adrian narrowing his eyes before we both spotted the glint of metal at waist level. What happened next confused all but those who executed it.

As Butch started to draw a metallic object from his pocket, Adrian squeezed the sweet-roll that he held in his hand. In the same instance, I was already moving towards Butch while keeping an eye on Officer Gomez.

_Bamf!_

As the sweet-roll exploded into frosted goodness, it temporarily blinded all those in the vicinity as they flinched at the flying foodstuff. By that time I had closed the distance between us and conveniently slipped on a patch of frosting left over from the destroyed cake. Bumbling into Butch, I knocked the object from his hand and palmed it before slipping it into my pocket as another couple of sweet-rolls went off.

_Bamf! … Bamf!_

As if sensing the coming trouble, Miller had taken two sweet rolls and stuffed one into his mouth. Before it exploded in his face he had already dropped the next one. The first exploded, drawing the Officer's eye before he picked up the falling of the second one. As the second one erupted into frosted shrapnel, the Officer's gaze was directed towards the ground as he moved to avoid the blast, thus allowing the small metal shtick to slip into my possession unnoticed.

By the time we had all recovered, Officer Gomez was before us and grabbing Butch by the arm.

"Mr. Deloria, may I remind you that you are a guest at this celebration, and should show the needed respect to your peers."

As Butch gaped while his hand opened and closed repeatedly over air, I could see Adrian tilt his still frosting covered face in my general direction before moving back to clean himself up.

Turning away from the scene that began to unfold I absentmindedly flicked away a spot of frosting from my sleeve before stopping before my dad. He smirked at me before standing from seat and moving towards the door.

"Is Butch giving you guys a hard time again?"

"Don't worry, we can handle him." I replied waving away the annoyance.

Stopping before the intercom he reached next to it to punch in an area code to send the broadcast.

"I'm glad to hear it. Once you start letting bullies push you around, you'll never see the end of it. Jonas is it ready?"

"Yeah doc, we're all set down here."

I looked at my father expectantly as he cut the com-call before gesturing at the door.

"Go ahead and head down to the reactor level; I don't think anyone will miss you for a few minutes."

"Okay dad."

I had barely made it out the door and halfway down the short hallway before I was stopped by another well-wisher.

"Happy birthday dearie. My goodness, I hope I haven't missed the party."

"Hello Mrs. Armstrong. I was just stepping out for a bit, there are still plenty of sweet-rolls left."

Beatrice Armstrong was overall a nice woman if a bit absent-minded at times. She loved to make up stories and write poems, bleak as they were. Noting the piece of paper in her hand, I could already make a solid guess as to what she had made for me.

"Oh! Mrs. Palmer's sweet-rolls?" at my nod she licked her lips excitedly before pushing the paper into my hands and making a beeline for the café.

_Well that went better than I expected. I wonder how long til-_

_Bamf!_

_Never mind…_

Pocketing the short poem, I made good time down to the reactor level at a light jog. My dad usually had me doing various exercises as part of my vault physical check-ups. It wasn't long before I was doing them on my own to relieve some stress every now and them. Though the fact that myself and the other lads usually come into his office with bruises and small cuts as a result of our self-training cannot be overlooked, we all learned some pretty valuable lessons. I personally vowed to never again try any strenuous exercises without stretching first. The full-leg cramps and my father's laughter at my predicament as a result of my persistence will haunt my nightmares for an eternity.

Reaching the entryway into the reactor level, I slowed to a halt before walking through the doorway and almost into Jonas.

"What are you doing down here? I thought kids weren't allowed in the reactor level?"

"Kid?" I allowed some childish whine into my voice, a smirk growing on my face. "I'll have you know I just turned ten!"

"Heh heh, I guess so huh? Look at you, Pip-Boy and everything! If you can wait just one more minute, I think your dad will want to give you his present himself." Jonas gave me a small smile before pushing his glasses up on his nose and looking past me. I already knew who was standing behind me without even turning, but I would have to in order to get my gift, prank or no prank.

"Are you ready for your surprise?" he asked me with a knowing glint in his eye.

"Might as well get this over with then huh?" I replied stonily.

"Well then, he certainly has grown hasn't he Jonas? Well, since the Overseer gave you your Pip-Boy and, you're old enough to do some work, you should be old enough for this. Your own BB gun! It's a little old but it should work perfectly."

My eyes widened quite a bit at this, probably to the size of dinner plates, as I looked between him and Jonas.

"You should be thanking Jonas. He's the one who found it down here, and it took us three months to find all the parts to get it working again. Do you know how tough it is to find a spring that small? Good thing Butch misplaced that switchblade of his huh?"

I reached into my pocket before pulling out said object, "You mean this one?"

He smiled at me before patting me on the shoulder, "So that's what that commotion was about huh? To think Butch would actually be stupid enough to try something like that at a party. Anyway, why don't we go test out your BB gun eh? Jonas and I rigged up a nice spot for you to test it out. Follow me."

* * *

(-)

_**Reactor Back Room**_

After following my father and Jonas through a few doors we ended up in one of the back rooms of the Reactor Level. I could see several stacked boxes before me and a few standing metal poles and some discs attached. From the short distance I could see the painted bull's-eyes on each of the discs as well as the BB gun resting against one of the crate with a small container next to it.

"Well what do you think? You can come down here to shoot anytime you want. But make sure you thank Jonas, I couldn't have done all this without his help."

Nodding quickly I walked over to claim my present, scanning the outside and checking the iron sights. After making sure that it wasn't booby trapped, I reached over to the small tin container and checked the BB's. They were these small little balls were separated by a small divider. One side had bright metallic silver, the other a dull gray. Looking up with the question in my eyes my father replied quickly.

"The shiny ones are made of steel, and can be reused for target practice, but beware of ricochets. The dull ones are made of lead and should you encounter any Radroaches in your time down here, these will make a good way to kill them without having to dig through the body for your rounds. The lead ones will deform on impact and cause quite a bit of damage should they penetrate the Radroach's outer skeleton, but they break more easily. The steel ones have a better penetration value, but we'll have a hard time making more should you lose them. Now, let's see you hit those targets."

I looked up at the three discs before loading ten lead BB's into the side of the gun and taking aim. I had seen soldiers do this in some of the vault's old movies. They checked the alignment of their sights and the target before pulling the trigger. I let the sights settle over the center of the target as the gun swayed a bit in my grip, the weight and stance unfamiliar. Taking a deep breath, I pulled the trigger.

_Thwack!_

I watched as the BB shattered on impact, sending the target spinning around in base. I smiled and let my hand pull down the reloading lever as I settled over the next one.

_Thwack!_

And the next one

_Thwack!_

I loved the feeling of the gun in my hands, I was ecstatic! Although it only had a small jolt, instead of the recoil I saw in the movies, or read about in some old gun maintenance magazines I found, it was still a wondrous feeling. I couldn't explain why I felt like I did, only that I did and that I fired one more round into each of the targets before stopping.

_There!_

I had heard the skittering sound as the target stopped spinning and looked down to confirm my suspicions. A Radroach had emerged from between the crates. It truly was a disgusting creature, and yet fascniating at the same time. Its large dirty brown carapace, and mottled yellowish body segments did little to better its appearance. I did a mental count of the shots I had fired compared to the amount that I had loaded and made a choice even as my father spoke in the back ground. I had only three lead BB's left and the possibility that they would break through its shell was next-to-nill. So I aimed for what they would get through. The head was definitely larger that the bulls-eyes on the targets and at a shorter distance, much more easily hit.

_Thwack!_

My first shot shattered against what could pass as its shoulder drawing its attention. It hissed at me a scraped its legs against the ground, what for I didn't know so I cycled the lever and fired again, the round puncturing one of its eyes. I don't know if Radroaches could feel pain, but if so, this one was literally rearing back and screaming its woes to the world. Seeing my chance I took aim for the bottom of its head and fired.

_Splat!_

I had never killed anything before, but the sight of that headless Radroach falling limply to the ground filled me with a sense of pride. With this gun I didn't need to worry about whatever lurked in the dark no matter how comfortable I felt hiding in it. Looking down at the now empty gun, I wondered at its slightly flimsy frame. What would I do if I ran out ammo and had no time to reload? I stared at the tip of the gun as I shifted my weight to lean against one of the crates, my father's praise going right over my head. But as I rested my weight onto my leg I felt something shift in my pocket. Smiling at my sudden inspiration I quickly sat on the floor and rested the gun lengthwise in front of me. I could feel the eyes of my father and Jonas watching me as I rooted through my satchel for the roll of ducted tape that I always carried with me. Once I had it out, I reached into my pocket for Butch's switchblade and laid it next to the tip of the barrel before wrapping it up.

Halfway through my little instant project I realized one crucial fact, 'How was I going to deploy the blade when it was covered in tape?' Looking around I spotted a loose screw and slowly used the sharp tip to cut through the tape that blocked the blade. Taking a look at my improvised modification I glanced at my father to see his eyes wide as he between my new weapon and myself.

"It'll need some revision to the design and some Wonder-Glue, _lots _of Wonder-Glue," I commented absently as I looked between the camera in Jonas's hands and my father. He smiled and came to stand next to me.

"Hey Jonas get a shot of me and the little weapon-smith!" he called out as he settled next to me in a crouched position with an arm around my shoulders.

"Say cheese!"

I barely caught the slight movement out of the corner of my eye as a sweet-roll suddenly appeared in my father's hand.

_Oh shi…_

_Bamf!_

_*Flash!*_

* * *

{-}

_Place/Time: 9/03/2274…05:45_

_Washington D.C., United States _

_Vault 101 _

_Subject: Mikhail Jaeger_

_Age: 16_

_Da-Dum…Da-Dum…Da-Dum… Da-Dum… Da-Dum…_

…

_It's gone…_

My eyes shot open, before immediately closing tightly as the bright lights temporarily blinding me. I brought my right hand to my temple to rub the sleep out of my eyes as I rolled to my left and off of the bed. Dropping to the floor in a one-armed push-up position I removed my hand from my eyes and stared at the concrete floor for a moment before starting my routine morning exercises.

_Is my headache really gone?_

Never taking my hands off the ground, I used my legs to push my lower body up until I was doing a handstand. I could feel the strain on my arms and shoulders as I held the position…15…20…30 seconds. Then I allowed myself to fall back until my feet were resting against the bedside wall, still upside-down. After another 20 seconds I could feel my face heat up from the blood starting to pool in my head. I kept my position until my arms were shaking and I could swear that my face was the deepest shade of red you had ever seen. Hopping to my feet, I continued my routine as I took note of the time.

_06:02_

I had kept my upside-down position for 6 minutes…_disappointing._

Narrowing my eyes I sought to finish all of my exercises before 07:30. The headache that had plagued me for the past week and a half was well and truly gone, and I planned to take full advantage of my newfound physical and mental freedom. So after allowing my body to settle into its unused rhythm I forced myself to recall the first 15 digits of Pi before continuing to 25 then to 40. Repeating them in my head 6 times each before switching to some more mental math for a short time, before attempting to recall every major battle/operation in the retaking of Alaska from the communist Chinese and the losses that each incurred. I looked at the clock to determine how much time I had left.

…_07:00_

_Barely?_

I narrowed my eyes at how quickly I had gone through my routine. It always happened like this. Around three times a year I would get anywhere from simply a _bad_ headache, to a debilitating one for up to a week in length, and after it had passed something about me would have changed. My sight would have improved, my speed or strength would have increased, and I had recently noticed, with my more hazardous assignments, that I healed faster than normal.

My friends had also gained certain traits as time went on. You could barely, or just plain wouldn't, hear Adrian come up behind you. Paul Allen no longer needed his glasses to read and could remember almost all of what he had learned; even those trivial tidbits of information that you normally forgot. Frank and Miller were strong, and I mean _strong_. You would never guess that there slightly larger than normal frames could carry entire crate full of scrap metal. Manny could react on par with myself and Adrian and usually came up with small innovations and almost meaningless inventions almost out of thin air.

One such example was a revolving loop with several magnets attached within it. Most of us had disregarded it as simply an endlessly moving chunk of metal on a stand that used gravity to keep its momentum. Then he used a few sticks of metal to create anchor points for a loop of copper wire that went around the loop, along with a few conductors and an empty battery. Then he put it with a small light-bulb that we had in storage and suddenly the light turned on! Granted that it only lasted two minutes, but he let the loop spin for a day and it had charged the depleted battery to the bursting point! We had actually been on our way to check on it when the battery exploded just before we opened the door. Manny had lamented over the charred chunks of his little generator, but soon revised his design by creating a runoff for the excess energy. Naturally we had seen little use for the machine since the vault was supported by several banks of fusion reactors. But the novelty of its flickering light in its isolated room never really grew old. It eventually found use when the Overseer denied Manny's requests to use a fission battery to power one of his experiments. I don't really know how he got the Overseer to agree to let him have the room all to himself, but it became his workshop where he went to draw up designs for more machines and tools. The rest of our group of six usually spent our spare time there, watching the revolving machines, or multi-colored light as Manny worked. We already had him pegged to be a vault technician or Pip-Boy programmer.

I had asked my father about these anomalies and he usually took blood samples and ran several tests before declaring that he couldn't find anything abnormal with us except for the headaches, which were probably lingering effects of the Vault flu that went around when the majority of us were anywhere from 1-3 years of age. He said it wasn't strange to experience some phantom symptoms from a virus over our lifetimes. Like semi-random bouts of itchiness when we came into contact with an irritant, supposedly from our smallpox and chickenpox vaccines.

This most recent headache had lasted the longest with the extra half-week, and it wasn't just me either. The majority of the non-adult inhabitants of the vault suffered from the same symptoms. All except for Freddie Gomez, and Paul Hannon, but they also suffered from an affliction. Freddie had, according to my father, Vault Depressive Syndrome, and Paul Hannon occasionally suffered from bouts of insomnia. Dad said not to worry about it as we would eventually out-grow the symptoms, but I couldn't help shake the feeling that he and some of the other medically trained personnel of the clinic knew more than they were telling.

After finishing my workout, I took a quick shower and dressed in one of my _newer_ jumpsuits before grabbing my copy of Pugilism Illustrated from its shelf and heading to the café for a spot of breakfast. I wasn't all that hungry. But after eating my food and reading through my book twice, _and a bit o' practice,_ I checked my Pip-Boy to see that it was only 10:00. The G.O.A.T. exam didn't start until 11:30. So with nothing better to do, I headed over to the infirmary to let my dad know that the headache had gone…

And maybe a short detour to the archives to exchange my current book for a copy of _Known Wonders of the Deep_. Last I remembered, I was on the chapter about whales. Fascinating creatures, but I always felt a bit depressed after reading the book for a period of time; after all, the Great War probably led to the deaths of the majority of sea creatures. Even if any had survived, I would never have a chance to see any of them.

* * *

(-)

_**11:22**_

I smiled cheekily as I left my father's office a large copper coin rolling itself between my fingers.

We had often used the small Pre-War trinket as an item of betting between the two of us. Whether it be a chess game, or something as menial as 'Who can assemble the four layer cupboard first?' Usually there's some amusing commentary alongside us when my friends show up, or some of the other doctors place bets on who would win this newest event. Afterwards I saw Stanley on the way out popping back a few Mint concentrate tablets that Manny's mother had made alongside my father. I never really saw the effects on anyone else besides Stanley, but he always seemed more relaxed after taking a few.

I stopped flipping the coin for a moment to take in the old faded lettering along the bottom rim. _Commemorative Coin .999 oz. Copper._ To commemorate what, I didn't know, but I did know that I usually thought more clearly when I was messing with something in my hands. Dad called me a kinesthetic learner, that I learned best while doing a physical activity of some sort. Which I guess could explain my constantly shaking leg when I sat in class, or that I usually asked Paul, or Miller to read our textbooks out-loud as I sparred with Manny in his workshop. None of us really knew how to fight except in a brawling form that we learned from the _Pugilism Illustrated_ books, not until Manny found a book while rooting through some old containers called _Way of the Zen: 3 Essential Arts for Precision and Focus. _We learned what the book called the _Arts of the Mind, Body, and Soul_, which essentially translated into Thinking exercises with distractions, Martial Arts, and Meditation.

Most of us loved the Martial Arts sections of the book, the three main arts were called Karate, Aikido, and Jiu Jitsu. Besides a brief backstory into the origins of these particular Martial Arts, the book essentially taught us how to fight in a manner far superior to anyone else in the Vault, especially the thrice-damned Tunnel Snakes. Thinking Exercises while being distracted were challenging to Miller, Frank, and Adrian, but Paul, Manny, and I got them pretty well. It was meditation that screwed us all over royally for about 4 months. It wasn't until Miller got it while working in his garden that we all sort of fell in behind him. That and we couldn't really use basic feints against him anymore once he got the practice down. It steadily got harder and harder to trick him, and he said that he just goes with the flow and didn't really try to think while fighting.

Eventually though, we ended up splitting into two groups when sparring. Miller, Frank, and Paul were one, and Manny, Adrian and I were the other. We separated more because of speed differences than anything else, but we were slowly working the differences into strategies as we usually ended meetings with three teams of two in a free-for-all. Each team being comprised of one unit of speed and one unit of muscle. We were thinking of working out how the muscle could overwhelm speed, or the speed could overwhelm the muscle later on though. The same basic routines of our meetings got old pretty fast as time flew by, so we were constantly trying to find new ways to test ourselves. The fact that we all healed pretty damn fast, helped hide all of the bruises that we would end up getting. Especially when one of the stronger ones of the group would land a good hit. A good night's rest and we would usually be back up at full the next morning, though sometimes the soreness persisted for a good amount of time.

Turning the corner to the hallway that lead down to Mr. Brotch's classroom, I was immediately faced with a situation that could go very bad, very fast. Amata wanted to get into the class, and the Tunnel Snakes were blocking her way. I had absolutely no problem getting into a fight with them cause I knew that I could take Freddie and Hannon easily, and since Amata had asked for some help learning how to fight, I was pretty sure she could hold off Butch until I had finished with the other two, or even leave him curled up on the floor with his voice a few octaves higher. (It's happened before) The reason that this could go down in a bad way for all involved, is that one of the single most important tests in the Vault was today, and nobody wanted to miss it to get chewed up by Officer Kendall and the Overseer, especially Amata.

"Get out of my way you damn Tunnel Snakes!"

And she's pissed.

"If you could just tell your dad…"

"That's what this is about? You're going to risk being late to the _G.O.A.T. exam_, just to catch my father's ear?" I could hear the disbelief in her voice, and I dare say I…no wait, I could say that I believed in Butch's stupidity. Attempting to get to the top through the daughter, just because they were too scared to go to him directly? That described Butch to a T.

"Pfft! Who needs the stupid test! We could get any damn job we wanted…"

…

I could feel my left eye start to twitch as I listened to Butch's miniature ego-rant. It would probably be better if I stopped this situation before it deteriorated any farther, so like the designated hitter for the Vault's Baseball team I stepped up to bat, and almost immediately Butch's attention was solidly on me.

"Well if it isn't little _Gay-ger? _What do you want?"

I stopped before the group and rubbed at my eyes tiredly before taking a quick glance at Amata to check her temperament.

_Simmering…like a bad batch of Miller's pastries, better get this done quick._

"Really Butch? Today of all days is when you're going to do this? Right outside of the classroom no less?" I sighed with exasperation as I stared at him dead in the eye. "Just because her father's the Overseer doesn't mean you can get any sort of leverage over him by going after her, just the opposite in fact." Even as he started to open his mouth, I stopped him with a raised hand and continued.

"Use those two neurons that I know you have and rub them together, see if you get a _spark._ Try and think about what you're trying to do and how it's going to end." With my slightly raised voice I knew it would attract the attention of those in the classroom, and sure enough Frank and Adrian leaned out the door to see what was going on, raising their eyebrows at the gang in almost comic unison. Taking a quick chance to recheck Amata's attitude, I could see that she was trying to hide a small smirk. Looking past her, I recognized the hurrying form of Miller coming quickly around the corner with a small light object in ha…_sweet-roll!_

"Ah! How thoughtful of you Miller, baking Butch a sweet-roll as good-luck for the G.O.A.T."

Miller quirked his eyebrow at me as he appraised the situation; breaking out in a wide smile as he realized my intention. "Oh yeah! And I made sure to do these _extra well_ this time!"

I caught sight of Butch's widening eyes before I blinked, and he was _gone…_

Shaking my head in confusion I looked at Adrian who was doing double-takes at Butch's previous position before me, and inside the class. Miller had a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he bit into the sweet-roll, and both Amata and I cringed as the other two Tunnel snakes disappeared into the class along with Frank and Adrian. I had all but resigned myself to my sugary fate when Miller took a bite out of the possibly deadly pastry, only for _nothing_ to happen.

He chewed with an annoyed expression as he looked between the two of us, "What? I _said_ that I made this one _extra well… _I think I've finally fixed the…"

_Bamf!_

As the fluffy shrapnel flew, I dropped into a crouch so low that I sat on my heels, and Amata leaned back so far that I thought she was going to break her back. Checking behind me, I could see that the wall was peppered with sugary sweetness, and Amata stood up quickly before looking at the chunk of pastry that was splattered on the wall at her head level. Looking back at Miller, I could see him glaring heatedly at the frosty remains in his hand before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his neckerchief (bandanna) to clean his hands and face. Folding away the cloth, he sighed dramatically before looking at the walls.

"Well at least this time it'll be easy enough to clean out."

Shaking his head tiredly, Miller walked into the classroom and Amata and I quickly followed.

Stepping through the threshold, I felt a small wave of apprehensiveness wash over me. While I had my doubts on the effectiveness of the exam, I was worried about the possible contents of the test and my ability to answer correctly. Shaking my head as I took my usual seat at the front of the class I tried to relax. I had prepared the best I could for this and whatever outcome I got, I could learn to live with. Looking back over my shoulder as Mr. Brotch settled some papers on his desk I looked at the rest of my friends.

Sitting directly to my left was Manny. He had his down and was running a scarred hand through his curly black hair, his light brown eyes narrowed in concentration as he reviewed the last minute reading that he had gotten in during breakfast. Sitting directly behind him, Susie Mack had a comforting hand resting on his shoulder as she tried to help him relax.

Behind them was Christine Kendall, who was turned in her seat to speak with Paul Allen. Paul's sandy blonde hair was hanging over his forehead as he held Christie's hand in both of his. I raised an eyebrow at his readily apparent affection. We had finally convinced Paul to ask her out after the test, and it looks like he was already making some moves. I suppressed a shiver at some of the books that Paul had been reading to prepare for this. He was the romantic of our group, and was probably the only one who could stomach to read those fluffy stories.

At the far back of the class, I could see Miller and Frank sitting across from each other, casually tossing an old baseball between them. Miller's brown hair was in his preferred buzz-cut, and Frank's was wild with curls, almost as if someone had dumped a packet of fluff on his head. They were the most relaxed set of students in the class.

Finally, sitting directly behind me, was Adrian. He had a screwdriver and a couple of bobby-pins in hand as he worked on a jammed padlock that he had brought to class. His messy brown hair shaded his similarly brown eyes as he worked, a deep intensity seemed to flow from him as he concentrated on his goal, practically envisioning the pins within the tumbler as he tried to unlock it. As if sensing my eyes on him he raised his head and quirked an eyebrow at me as the lock came undone in his hands with a small click.

"How long this time?"

"Around thirty-five seconds."

"That's five faster than the last time." I said in appreciation. It still took me a full minute and a half to unlock the same type of tumbler. He nodded before pulling his tools out of the lock and closing it again, ready to try for a faster time. We both turned to look at Mr. Brotch as we heard his chair roll back as he stood up.

"Alright class, now that everyone has managed to find the classroom, we can get started."

I settled into my chair and reached for the pre-prepared pencils that were resting in a slot at the front of the desk. I let the familiar coated wood settle in my hand as I looked down at the answer sheet on my desk, the row of blank boxes staring back at me in challenge.

* * *

(-)

_**1 Week Later**_

_**Vault 101, Main Cafeteria **_

_**Subject: Mikhail Jaeger**_

_Zap!_

"Tch! Damn faulty wire."

I continued to grumble under my breath as I worked on the gutted jukebox that was resting on its back on two tables, allowing me to peer up into it as I worked. My first assignment as a secondary vault Technician had taken me three days to complete, and we would finally have a working jukebox again. I spent more of my time running around looking for replacement parts, or having Manny help me craft new ones, than I spent working on the jukebox itself. So as I replaced the last faulty wire, I screwed the bolts back on and closed it up.

Calling Frank over from his position napping in one of the booths, I had him help me lift the jukebox off the table and back to the wall where I could connect it to a source of power before we even thought of putting a Battery in. We settled the damned unwieldy thing back into place and reinserted the old records before glancing at each other.

"Moment of truth here."

We couldn't help but hold our breaths as I picked one of the selections and watched the record rotate in its slot before settling in place, and the needle falling into the grooves it. We waited as the speakers played a bit of static and skipped once before it caught, and music started to play. Frank cheered a bit before giving me a slap on the back that almost sent me careening into the glass face of the Jukebox. He grabbed me by the neck of my jumpsuit just before I could hit.

I looked down at my Pip-Boy's clock and saw that it was almost dinner-time and then glanced up at the sound of the Café's door opening and watched as two of the Vault's resident pairs walked in. Paul was walking in with a sheepish expression on his face and a red hand-print on his cheek. Christine was walking right beside him as he explained about one of his Marriage Counseling meetings going bad. Manny and Susie were right behind them and they were discussing how she would learn to one of the Vault's new teachers. She still wasn't very enthusiastic about her soon-to-be position, and Manny was trying to bring her around to the idea, or at least brighten her mood.

I glanced at Frank before grinning mischievously and gesturing slightly at the groups and at the Jukebox. He caught on fairly quickly and moved to greet the couples.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he crowed, bowing theatrically before the two groups and gesturing towards two of the booths, "We have music and food awaiting your most privileged parties. Would you please take a seat as I take your orders?" He pulled a pencil and some paper out as he said this, his smile widening into a Cheshire grin as he silently laughed at the two dumbfounded couples. I could see several more groups of people stopping at the doors and watching the proceedings, and while some had confused expressions, the majority were intrigued or amused. As Frank took their orders, I stepped into the metaphorical spotlight and gave an exaggerated bow while sweeping my arm wide.

"We have quite a selection of music tonight, would you all like to start this night off quick or slowly?" I didn't bother waiting for a reply as I put on a new track. As more and more people began to pile into the large Cafeteria and take their seats, I saw Miller at the door dimming the lights, and Adrian joining in on taking orders. I moved away from the Jukebox and grabbed a spare clipboard that I had been using to mark down the supplies I had used to repair the jukebox, and began to take down some orders as well. Hearing some whistles from the adults I looked back to see Paul offering his hand to Christie and he stood before her. She looked back at the row of adults sitting buy the wall and I saw her mother nod at her, while her father continued to look threateningly at Paul, until his wife elbowed him in the side. I watched as she dragged her husband to the dance floor while still in uniform and joined the couple already up.

I took the orders that I had taken to the serving area where Miller worked alongside the Mr. Handy to prepare the dishes from their ready made areas. As I walked back to serve Old Lady Palmer and Allen and Gloria Mack, I froze as the Overseer walked through the door. This would not go we…

"Father! Would you care to dance with your daughter?"

…And Amata came in for the save!

I sighed in relief as Amata lead her slightly smiling father to the floor, and they were soon joined by Manny and Susie, as she dragged him out of the booth. If all went well it would be one of the first good times that the Vault had had in years. I could see my father grinning at me from the door and he gave me a thumbs-up, before walking forward to stop beside me.

"Let's hear it for the Jukebox repairman!"

I smiled and shook my head at the cheers before Miller popped up next to me.

_Where in the Hell? Oh Go—_

"Sweet-roll for the repairman!"

_Bamf!_

* * *

_{-}_

_**3 Months Later**_

_**Vault 101, Maintenance Corridor D-3 **_

_**Subject: Mikhail Jaeger**_

"Look Stanley, I'm just sayin'. All this workin' overtime for the Overseer isn't good for you, and the rest of us can all see what it's doin' to ya'."

_TZzat!_

I flinched away from the bundle of wires that I was working on, and mumbled some choice curses past the couple of bolts I held with the corner of my mouth. I pulled one of the bolts from my teeth and used it to secure an electrical brace that would hold my bypass in place, before sticking my head out of the small maintenance hideaway.

"Oi! Try an' hit 'dat junc'n again!"

I could vaguely see Stanley wave his arm past the crate that blocked our lines of sight and the telltale _Clack! _of the switch being thrown. Having already shielded myself with the panel that was usually bolted to the wall, I waited for the water pressure meter on my Pip-Boy to register the base internal pressure on one of our water treatment intake pipes. Keeping a sharp eye on the digital readout on the internal pressure, I glanced at the Geiger-Counter on the top left of my Pip-Boy's screen.

_Registering just under Fifteen-Rad/Sec, we'll have to calibrate the water filtration system to match up with the improved intake. Something's happened to the water source, so I hope we can fix the other 3 Auxiliary pipes soon. The radiation's going to play hell on this alcove if we leave it running too long, and I don't fancy having to pop Rad-X every time I need to do maintenance down here. _

_Ding!_

My Pip-Boy's screen flashed twice as the light tone made itself known past the sound of water rushing through the pipes. Tilting my head to the side, I flipped the far right switch marked '**Data**' and scrolled to the '**Messages**' tab, where one new file lay blinking at the top of the screen.

_**From: Manny**_

_**Re: Spare Parts**_

_**Hey Mike!**_

_**Frank, Miller, and Adrian are on their way with those parts you wanted, and Adrian got ya' some more tools just in case ya' know.**_

_**Also, some more Roaches popped out of a vent in Section 5-9 in Tech. There were a few Big Ones along with the group. We sealed it up and me an' Mom are patching up Jenkins and Hannon's dad. Be careful mate; that vent runs straight passed Sec D-3. Officer Kendal and Gomez are suiting up and will follow the guys down soon to check on the vents.**_

_**Watch yourself Mikhail; keep your wrench on hand.**_

_Ding!_

The Pip-Boy's screen flickered away from the message screen, back to the readouts I was getting from the multiple attachments that I had placed into the electrical grid and pressure meters. Watching as the PSI gauge slowly drifted past the Yellow/Green barrier line I slowly edged myself towards the pipes, hand reaching for the Emergency stop lever.

"Oi, Stanley!," I yelled back out the entrance of my alcove, "Lower the release valve on Section C-5 would you?"

I heard some shuffling ring off of the walls and a light _clang _as Stanley reopened several panels. "Got it Mike, just wait one sec…Hey Joseph! Get over here an' help me with this!"

The thumping of work boots on the concrete floor came from behind me as Joseph Kerrigan came jogging around the corner from his work station, giving me a quick nod as he passed. I returned the nod and fixed my eyes back on the pressure gauge as I started to ease the lever into its ready position, just in case.

The needle on the gauge was at mid-yellow and crawling towards red as I heard the grunts of exertion as both men attempted to close the water valve for this section of pipes.

"Hey guys? You've got about 50-seconds until this thing redlines! Hurry up!"

"We're trying Mike, we're trying! Just stay handy on the lever! If we don't get it by the time it touches the mark then shut it!" Joseph's higher pitched voice rang out among the metal walls, strained by the amount of force he was putting into the valve.

…

"Stanley!" I called with rising urgency as the time ticked away.

"Just hit the lever, and come help us! That should give…"

_Crash!_

The sound of a large chunk of metal bouncing off the floor came ringing through the corridor, my hand froze, the Emergency Lever half-depressed. Then the hissing came…

"Roaches! How the…"

The sounds of angry grunts, cursing and hissing filled the air, along with the occasional clang of metal on metal, sometimes accompanied by the satisfying thump of something being hit solidly.

I threw down the lever the remainder of the way as the gauge stopped right before the red.

_Stupid! Shouldn't have held off…_

Quickly detaching myself from the different instruments I had brought, I pulled myself back along the alcove until I half-tumbled out in my haste to help the others. Catching myself, I frantically rifled through my resting work pouch, which I had left outside of the alcove, before pulling out my work wrench. The heavy metal settled into my hands as I pushed myself off my knees and ran towards the sounds of fighting.

Usually most residents wouldn't have any problems handling one or two of the regular sized Roaches with only a few scratches, and one of the Big Ones could be problem with its larger size, but if two security officers had been injured by the ones that emerged up-top, then it was definitely more than one or two.

Skidding around the stack of crates in my way I stopped to take a quick glance at the situation before jumping in myself. Stanley was over to one side, back against the wall, raising a toolbox over his head to bring it down atop three Radroaches that were skittering towards him. Joseph was dual-wielding a smaller wrench and a lead pipe that he had picked up from our spares, a couple of Roaches already lying dead before him, their carapaces smashed and their yellowish blood oozing across the ground. But there were at least five more rushing towards him as he pressed his back against the crates I had just rounded.

Acting immediately, I slid forward with my leg out to strike the group in a sweeping motion. Connecting solidly to the one nearest to me, it caused a cascading effect, sending them scattering before impacting the walls. Rolling to my feet, I rushed towards Stanley wrench hanging low to my right side.

Stanley brought his toolbox down and managed to crush two of the Roaches, but he only nicked the third one, sending it skittering away. He dropped to one knee and stayed panting from the exertion of carrying the large toolbox, sweat dripping down his face, but you should never take your eyes off your enemy. When the Roach stopped against the wall, it tensed its legs underneath itself before leaping towards Stanley

I watched the trajectory of the Roach as it flew towards the helpless technician. I didn't think, I just did. Even as time seemed to slow around me I aimed for the point in which I would intercept the Roach. The wrench would have no force behind it if I swung it upwards from its resting position. Narrowing my eyes, I dropped my wrench and shoulder checked the Roach, straight into the wall.

The carapace cracked before shattering, and an explosion of yellow liquid splattered the right side of my face and body. Although the now pancaked body of the Roach absorbed most of the impact, I still felt the deep blow as my body absorbed the force.

Bouncing off the wall, I flinched at the sharp pain in my shoulder. That area would be one large bruise later, but future discomfort did not worry me. What took my attention now was the darkly colored shard of chitin that was protruding from my shoulder, the blue of my Vault Jumpsuit already gaining a dark reddish tinge as blood seeped from the wound.

Gritting my teeth from the pain I turned to face Joseph. It was nothing compared to having your shoulder dislocated by being slammed into the floor by someone that had at least sixty pounds on you. He had managed to smash another bastard Roach into the ground and knock away its companions. He looked up at me while bringing his pipe back up to his shoulder, his eyes flashing to my now red-yellow shoulder. I took up a position next to him as we faced the group of Roaches that he had knocked away.

Moving forward, we approached the group of hissing monstrosities, their carapaces flicking angrily as they mock-lunged at us. Taking the offensive, we both charged the group, fully intending to scatter them and divide them between us. At this rate, we would be done shortly.

**{-}**

"Oi, Mike! You guys alright down here?"

I let my eyes wander in the direction that the voice came from, before coming back to the delicate operation before me. Stanley had taken a bite to the shoulder while were clearing up the last few Roaches. The little buggers liked to play dead even while missing half their legs.

Cutting the bandage and tying the ends in a knot, I brushed the seat off my forehead before standing up, trying to wipe off as much blood as I could on the legs on my jumpsuit.

"A bit late aren't ya?" I called back allowing a tone of annoyance to color my voice. I looked back over towards the alcove I had occupied before the whole mess started and watched as Joseph pulled himself out of the miniature cave. He flashed me a thumbs up as he dusted himself off, favoring his left leg. One of the last Roaches had rushed him as his wrench had imploded its brother. Using its wings to jump a short a distance it stabbed its pointed legs into his thigh and tried to bite through the extra tool pouches on his technician jumpsuit to get to his flesh. I had removed the threat quickly, but in the process it had left a couple of presents behind. I glanced at the bloody bandages on Joseph's leg and walked over to give him a hand. The poor kid was going to have a souvenir in his leg until my dad or one of the other doctors could dig the two pieces of Roach-leg out of his thigh.

_*Whistle*_

I glanced over as Frank, Miller, and Adrian made their entrance. The two former weighed down by several toolboxes, and the latter glancing around warily at the gore. I was not ashamed, but cleaning was going to be hell later. Radroaches made a hell of a mess when you're splitting them open across the halls.

Waving the group over, I ran a hand over my bandaged shoulder and sighed. Looks like those repairs on the water systems were going to be delayed even fur-

_Crash!_

I felt myself thrown sideways as something flew past my shoulder, the rising cries of alarm filling the air. My head solidly impacted the wall and I could see the fabled stars flash in my vision, the edges of my sight narrowing as darkness threatened to overtake me, its cold grip seeking purchase within my mind.

_Crack! Crack!_

_Gunfire? Who brought a…_

I could hear chittering and hissing from behind my prone position. Staring at the ceiling, I could only lay there and wait for the hammer-blows in my head to stop, the lights spinning above me. The yelling continued, and understanding lay just out of my reach as the hissing stopped abruptly along with the gunshots.

Reaching up, I tried to rub the spinning lights out of my eyes, before allowing my hand to fall limp at my side. Almost immediately I retracted it as a foreign warmth coated it. Lifting it to my eyes I could only wonder at the sudden strength of the lights overhead. Since when were they strong enough to shine through my hand?

**{-}**

_**2 Hours Later**_

_**Vault 101, Infirmary**_

_**Subject: Adriansky Ivanovich**_

…_Dammit…_

Adrian was numb, and yet he felt his insides burn…he wanted to jump, and yell, and beat dents into the steel walls…but he couldn't. For all the blazing fury flowing through him, there was no strength behind his limbs.

He looked down at his shaking hand and slowly closed it into a clenched fist in an attempt to steady it. Not two hours ago it was as unwavering as his resolve; he had needed it to be. Yet now? Now it was shaking as badly as a young child about to be scolded, like an old world leaf in the wind.

Taking a deep breath of the filtered air of the infirmary, he held it, trying to will the anxiety away. Why was he anxious…there was no sense of foreboding. All that would happen had already happened. The fallen would not rise, and wounds would heal and they would move on.

He looked up at the bedside at which he sat, the bandaged form of his close friend and pseudo-brother lay unmoving except for the slight rise and fall of the blanket. He had almost lost him, and only a steady hand and a stout heart had saved him. The sidearm that he had only ever used once had been fired until it was empty, and he had not missed a shot, he could not have afforded to.

Looking past the bed, his attention was drawn to the quiet sobbing at the other end of the room. There a cloaked figure lay unmoving below a stained sheet. There was the fallen, he who his steady hand could not save. He looked back to his still shaking hand, the hand that had chosen the fates of the two before him. He had had to choose between the two. There had been eight Roaches and he had had only ten rounds of ammunition. He had chosen his friend, who could not fight, while fate had taken the other. A lucky bite was all it was, but it only took a lucky bite to ensure the outcome.

His hand slowly stopped shaking, his resolve returning along with the words of man long since gone.

_We all live with the choices we make. For if we did not, then we would never move on._

_And if we never moved on, then we might as well have never made the choice at all._

**{-}**

_**3 Years Later**_

_**Place/Time: 8/17/2277**_

_**Friday**_

_**Vault 101: Residential**_

_**Subject: Mikhail Jaeger**_

_Oohhh…_

_Lights why?_

Dropping my hand over my eyes I tried to rub away the grit from my eyes, pushing hard enough that spots appeared in my vision. I started to roll over and took a glance at my bedside clock, its red numbers blinking back at me.

_**03:40**_

_What the?_

Groaning into my pillow, I tried to fall back into the embrace of unconsciousness. After tossing and turning a couple of times I tried a few meditation techniques to dose off. After what felt like a good amount of time, I stirred once more and glanced at the clock-face.

_**03:51**_

…

_Why!_

Huffing in annoyance into the pillow, I threw the sheets off of myself before rolling over onto the floor. It was only as I fell that I realized that my left arm was asleep. My groggy attempt to catch myself in a push-up position was foiled immediately, my tingling arm collapsing under me and allowing me to crumple to the floor.

_Hmmm…nice and cold…_

I lay on the cold floor for a short, enjoying the coolness on my skin. I usually slept in my boxers and a light t-shirt, but over the past couple of months I had steadily lost the shirt. So there I was, laying mostly naked on the cold floor and flexing my arm to drive out the pins and needles.

_Might as well start the day early, Dad owes me Charlie for that chess game._

As soon as I had some semblance of control over my lazy arm I began my series of push-ups, followed by crunches, squats, dynamites, and a slow martial arts form with sharp strikes. I would probably never have to protect myself from more than a few callous swipes from Butch or any errant Radroaches, but we would have to leave the Vault eventually. Maybe not in my lifetime, but in the future that outcome would become inevitable. Even with the food we grew in the Vault our supplies would eventually run out, and while the water seemed to still be coming in smoothly from the outside, there was no telling if it could become blocked accidentally or even on purpose. There was also the fact of genetic stagnation. I had listened in on my father discussing the point with Manny's mother and a few of the other doctors, and I found myself worried. Already the Vault was very under-populated, and the female to male ratio was heavily off. Perhaps we could stay another two generations, maybe even four if the Overseer declared that the population must be raised by issuing a reproductive order.

Perhaps I would never have to defend myself, but I would make damn sure that when the Vault was finally opened, we would not be defenseless. It's a shame that I would have to wait for the current Overseer to pass on though, but even Amata agrees that he's a bit too constricting.

_Tch…_

Rolling to my feet I stood and stretched myself out before glancing back at the clock.

_**05:15**_

_I have the first half of the day off before my first assignment starts and nothing to do…Dammit!_

I had originally been planning to sleep in for most of the day and only get up to get some lunch in before starting my day, and ending it with a Friday night dinner and dance with Amata. Originally I knew that there was no way I would be left in peace long enough to sleep in until twelve, but one could hope.

Huffing to myself with my morning exertions, I slowly grabbed my towel and began my morning walk to the showers. The second I stepped foot out of my room, my stance changed and my pace went from sedate to focused.

This was a change that I had noticed shortly after my sixteenth birthday. Once I left my room my mind became sharper, my thoughts more focused, my steps more sure, my ideals set. I would debate over possible events to choose from in my room, and the second I left, I knew exactly what I would do first. Maybe it was the fact that I felt most relaxed while in my room because it was _my _space, or maybe it was the fact that I had to be alert for any possible jokes from either my father or my friends.

After leaving the shower, I left my towel in one of the laundry collection bins and set a course for the cafeteria to get an early breakfast before heading down to the library. I was half-way to the café's entrance when I realized an overarching important factor that would dictate my day…

I had forgotten my cap.

Taking the next junction, and jogging up a stairway, I walked at a steady pace back to my room. I had almost made it to the door when the alarm went off and the emergency lights coated the interior of the vault a deep red.

The time was 06:00…

_**45 Minutes Earlier**_

_**POV:**_

_**Jonas**_

_Only a short time left now…soon the Doc and the others will be out of here and off on their mission._

Jonas was walking at a brisk pace back to his lab. He had just left the underground meeting with James's group. It was today that they would once more shatter the history of the vault, and the great steel door would part open once more.

_I only wish I could have gone with them…_

Jonas was not as depressed as some would see him to be. It was true that he wanted to experience the outside world, but the stories that the Doc and the others told were more than frightening enough to keep him awake at nights. As he stepped into his office he couldn't help but reach into his coat pocket once more and grip the audio recording that the group had left for their kids as well as a note for the Overseer with an explanation. Hopefully it would be enough to appease his anger, as well as the fact that the ones that the Overseer saw as the _troublemakers _would be gone.

Sitting down heavily at his desk in the clinic he couldn't help but feel a cold shiver run down his neck as he glanced at his watch.

…05:30…judgment time

Leaning forward, Jonas reached over to the end of his desk where a small plastic case lay on a stand, it shining copper contents gleaming back at him. It would be yet ano…

_Swish…_

The sound of the locked clinic door opening was his first warning. Eyes darting to the entrance Jonas never saw the uniformed figure emerging from the rear entrance. He only heard the whistling of the air before stars erupted in his vision and it all went black.

It was not more than five minutes before the bright lights of the clinic blinded Jonas's recovering consciousness, a sharp stinging in his nostrils and sinuses only served to aggravate his headache and leave him nauseas and disoriented. A figure disrupted the sharp light above his prone position and provided a small bit of relief to his eyes, and a sharp sting in his neck slowly took the pain away.

"Tsk, Tsk… What happened Jonas? You were supposed to be my informant, supposed to help me in preventing such problems and outcomes like this. Mac! Sit him up."

Jonas could feel his body being lifted off the floor and being propped up against something that poked him sharply in the back, his senses felt dulled and hazy.

'_Med-X,' _his mind remembered fuzzily, trying to shake away the fog.

"Now Jonas," the figure came into his sight once more, this time gripping his jaw and pulling his head up so that he could see him clearly. He may not have had the mind-splitting headache, but the new fog was more than adequate to slow his recognition.

_Almodovar…_

"You are going to tell me everything Jonas, or else I'm afraid that officer Mac here will have to use some _stimulating_ measures to help you answer. So…what do have to say for yourself?"

The Overseer's cruel visage glared down at him, the bright clinic lights making it difficult to meet his eyes.

**{-}**

_Blergh!_

Jonas's mouth burned, the bile from his stomach entering the lacerations within his mouth. His whole face ached and his chest burned as if on fire. His breathing was ragged and a bloody froth had formed around his lips, the sounds of his pained wheezing filling the room. He couldn't feel his legs anymore, only a numbed bunch of nerves remained, his knee caps shattered by the Officer's sidearm.

Jonas was not a soldier, he was not a spy, he was not a revolutionary with such a strong belief in his cause that no pain could shake his faith. He was a simply doctor and an idealist. Yet he resisted, he resisted for his friends, he resisted for his family, and most of all, he resisted just to piss the bastard Overseer off.

Jonas tried to sneer at the pacing figure, but the swollen muscles of his face would not allow him to. The pain that shot through his mouth and head served to force a groan from his battered lungs.

_CRACK!_

His head whipped to the side once more, the sound of sadistic glee ringing out once more from his right. The heavy breathing and exhilarated smile only served as a grim reminder as to how he had gotten this way.

Jonas allowed his head to loll to the side and rest his head on his shoulder, his neck limp from the repeated strain.

"We're done here Mac, finish this, and let's get going. There are still plenty of other pests to remove."

Jonas blinked away the tears and blood from his eyes, his gaze resting on anything he could get, any glimmer of hope he could latch on too. He felt the cold metal press against the side of his bruised temple and grind into his cracked bone.

_There!_

He saw a flash of movement at the window, just a flash of blue and red before it disappeared. He allowed himself a small grin through the pain. His suffering would not go unnoticed, and the overseer had been seen for what he truly was. Even as a bloody gurgling laugh burst from his failing body, a click sounded and he felt a searing pain for but an instant, then sweet nothing.

The gun cracked, the sirens blared, and the vault flashed red…

**{-}**

_**Mikhail**_

_Where is it? Where is it?_

I rolled to the side and peeked behind my drawers.

_There!_

I pulled my cap onto my head and tapped the screen of my Pip-Boy to send out a group wide message to my friends and father. Grabbing my toolkit and clipping it to my belt, I all but ran the door of my room and ou-

_Slam! Crash!_

I was not prepared for someone to barge directly into me the second that my door opened. Surprised, I couldn't do anything but grab on to the offending person and try to control our fall. The moment I hit the ground however, I rolled us over until I was on top and restraining their arms creating a moment in which I could ascertain the identity of my att-

_Amata?_

"Amata?! What are you-"

_Slap!_

_How did she-_

"You idiot, let me up!"

"Wha-"

I was stunned and still trying to reboot my brain. Was it surprising that I had been tackled on my way out of my room? No. Was it odd that Amata had been the one to come to my room? Not very much. What was troubling me however, and the source for my mental stumbling was the fact that she was in my room during an alert, _her father was going to kill me,_ she had a pistol firmly in her hand, her face was white as a sheet, and her eyes dilated. Her breathing was heavy and deep, probably from running, but I had never seen this expression on her face before, simply pure unadulterated _fear._

"Come on get up! Get up! Get up!"

She bodily pushed me off of her and began to drag me by the arm into my room shutting the door behind us. Pushing me to the side, I sat down heavily on my bed as she picked up one of my burlap rucksacks from a wall hook and started to dump my things into it. BB's, extra jumpsuits, a few pictures, a couple of books, extra bits of underclothes, socks, baseball and mitt. She even went over to the standard first aid kit and emptied the contents into the already almost full bag, all the while I sat there dumbly trying to figure out what was going on.

The vault-wide alarm was going off, Amata almost looked to be in shock, I hadn't received any replies from any of my friends or my father, there had been no announcement as to the problem, and my Pip-Boy read no new assignments.

"Listen, you've got to get out of here! Your father's gone and my father's going to come looking for you!"

_Dad's gone?_

We need to move, find the others, and get you guys out of here. When your dad left he wasn't alone. Some of the others went with him, but there weren't many. Then they left the vault and now my father's targeting you and the others!"

"What do you mean, how could my father have left the vault? Who went with him? Why is your father going after-"

"I don't know!" she yelled, throwing my packed bag at me. I could see the tears streaming down her face as she stammered, mumbled and paced furiously before me. She was shaking and her breathing grew more ragged and hysterical. Putting my bag at the head of my bed, I stood, and as she turned towards me, grabbed her and hugged her tightly, trying to get her to calm down. My thoughts were racing, and no longer was I frozen as a bystander. Amata was losing her coherency and I needed to step up.

Holding her to my chest I left one hand on her back and the other kneading a spot between her shoulder blades that always worked to calm her down. As she sobbed into the front of my jumpsuit, I planted a kiss on her forehead. We may have been the same age and the same height for the majority of our lives, but I had grown quickly over the past few years, and was taller than her by a good three inches.

Letting myself sit back onto the bed, I tried to cradle her and rocked slowly as she seemed to shrink down upon herself, trying to bury her head into my shoulder as her sobs slowed and stopped.

"They killed Jonas…"

Her voice was muffled, but I could hear the words clearly all the same, and their meaning splashed down on me like a bucket of freezing reactor coolant and stopped my thoughts in place.

"_What?"_, my voice was tense and it came out like a rasp.

"They killed Jonas!" this time her voice was clearly heard and her shoulders started to shake again. I could only tighten my hold on her as my thoughts began to reorganize themselves and start up once more.

_Kill, killed, done, end of the road, murdered, kicked the bucket, executed, met the devil…_

_Why? What's going on? Why did dad leave? Why is the Overseer coming after us? How many are coming after us? Where are the controls for the vault door? What's beyond the door? Where did dad go? Why did he go? Why is Amata here? Why did they kill Jonas? Who killed Jonas? Why didn't Jonas leave too? Are the others in danger too? What do I do? _

_What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? What…I…do? Do…do…do…do.. …_

_do…_

_Do…_

_DO!_

"We've got to go." I gently pried off of my chest and held her in front of me and then I slid off the bed to come level with her eyes. I could see the fear, the anger, the uncertainty. She was confused, and the actions of those close to her scared her, they are not what she knows.

"We need to go," I repeated, adding a slight shake to her shoulders. "If your father's men catch you in here with me there's no telling how he'll react." I pulled her to her feet and walked over to pick up another one of my rucksacks. As opposed to the first one which was meant to be held vertically, this one was to hang from the shoulder horizontally. I packed away my baseball bat, BB gun, and as many Pip-Boy data chips as I could in a lockbox. They were my journals, books, manuals, and other miscellaneous information, but there was no telling what would be useful.

I knew what I had to do. They had killed Jonas, and a group of people had left with my father. If they were who I thought they were, then I was not the only one in danger. If my father had left the vault, then I would do so as well. If they were coming after me and if I was captured, I knew that I would not be walking away in one piece. I needed to get away from Amata and gather up the rest of the guys. Even if they were not being chased, they would be under suspicion if I succeeded in leaving, if they weren't already. If I asked them to, they might follow me. The only ones I wasn't sure of were Manny and Paul, they had their significant others here and I knew for sure that unless something drastic happened, they wouldn't be coming as well. Frank and Miller were almost shoo-ins to come with me. Adrian would probably make sure that his mother was safe before following me. Amata would be safe; she was the Overseer's daughter.

I turned back to Amata as I slung the bag over my shoulder. She looked directly into my eyes, and I could see the resolve behind them.

_Crap…_

"Amata…"

"Don't say it," she ground out, her voice somewhere between about to collapse, and furious. Then her face fell and she looked away. "I can't go with you."

_Oh…that was simpler than I thought…_

"I wasn't going to ask," I dropped to a one knee before her and slid the other pack down to the floor next to us. Her eyes darted back to mine; I could see the hurt in them as well as relief and regret.

"You need to stay here, while I go get my father back and get some answers." I brushed a loose strand of hair away from her eyes and let my hand rest on her shoulder. I couldn't help let a small smirk pull at my lips. "Maybe when you become Overseer you can let us back in when we come back?"

She gave a bit of a choked giggle at my actions and leaned forward slightly resting her forehead against mine for a moment before pulling back.

"Will you come back?" she asked, her voice hushed and higher than usual as she brushed away some of her tears. My smirk transformed into a full blown smile as I closed the small distance and captured her lips, slowly pressing her back against the side of the bed.

"I promise."

She smiled at me before giving me a last peck on the cheek and I gave her a hand up. She lifted the second pack and handed it to me, as well as unhooking the pistol from her waist. Reversing her grip, she handed me the pistol grip first and reached into her fanny-pack and withdrew two ammunition magazines and a box of 10mm ammunition. As I stared at the weapon she slipped the magazines into two of my belt-loops and hugged me.

"I took my father's pistol, it's already loaded."

I nodded slowly, pulled the slide to check that it already a round in the chamber, and flipped the safety on and slipped it into my belt.

"Hopefully you don't have to use it, but Mac killed Jonas and he had this smile on his face…"

My grip tightened around the weapon and I felt my finger start to twitch. Mac would be a danger, and his psychological condition gave me grounds to…

I mentally slapped myself; I was trying to rationalize a murder for revenge!

"Do you remember that secret tunnel in my father's office?"

"Is the password still your mother's name?"

"No," she shook her head sadly, "You're going to have to hack the terminal to get out."

I nodded and did a quick once over of the room to make sure that I wasn't leaving anything behind. I never had much, and what I did have easily fit into the two rucksacks with room for more. I would meet up with the others and then we would have to raid the armory if we could. There was no telling what kind of things could be waiting for us beyond the vault door.

Amata took a few steps away from me and started to move for the door when I stopped her. Moving over to my emptied drawers, I reached deep into the back of the top one and withdrew a small folder.

"I had been hoping for dinner and a show, but I guess that'll have to wait." I passed her the item and watched as she opened it. Inside were copies of every picture we had ever taken, and a few letters that I had written for her, but never delivered.

Her hands were shaking as she looked at the pictures, and a few more tears fell before she took the folder and placed it into her pack before moving for the door again.

"I'll try to meet you at the door okay?"

"Alright," and with that, she was gone, running off into the vault to check on the others. I tightened the strap on my cap, and pulled my bat out of the pack and held it at the ready in a low hanging position in one hand.

**{-}**

_**15 Minutes Earlier…**_

_**Manuel Saldivar**_

"You've got ta' be shitting me…"

The sounds of furious typing continued as lines of code were written, rewritten, deleted, and replaced. Manuel Saldivar was usually a calm individual with a few personal quirks and had a good amount of patience from dealing with friends and failing projects…especially when Miller was around. Now the great patience was strained and the cause of his ire had long since vacated the area. The amount of _materials_ that Butch DeLoria had put through his terminal was astounding, as well as the fact that he somehow managed to corrupt half the run-time processes since the last maintenance run.

Manuel was not in the apartment alone. While Butch had turned and ran the second that Manuel had opened the BIOS screen, there were two others with him. Butch's mother was resting in bed after her most recent drinking binge after she fell off the wagon, and Susie Mack had come with Manuel to help him with a preliminary checkup on Ms. DeLoria while he attempts to fix the computer, lights, and door lock.

"Dammit Butch! When I get my hands on you…"

He really hadn't planned for this, it was just supposed to be a prelim checkup and a quick review on the status of the room's equipment, then he and Susie would be able to get a good breakfast in before they had to go to their separate jobs.

"It's okay Manny," came Susie's soothing tone as she continued to check off items and write down notes on his medical clipboard, "at least this gives us an excuse to extend our morning a bit longer."

Manuel sighed before inserting his Pip-Boy's jack into the terminal to run some of his custom diagnostics and see if he couldn't just replace large enough parts of the code to at least get the terminal working again.

"I know Suse, it's just that…"

Whatever he would say was lost to time as Vault's interior lighting flashed before resettling, and the emergency lights began to pulse dark red.

"What the…"

Almost immediately he turned back to the terminal and began the process of bypassing the half-broken piece of scrap and jacking directly into the Vault's main network. He made it far enough for an infestation alert to appear on his Pip-Boy's screen before he was kicked out of the system.

***USER ACCESS REVOKED***

"Revoked? What kind of stupid shit is this?"

"Hey!"

The piercing voice of his girlfriend of five months rang into his ear across the short distance. She had always been on his case about cussing excessively under stress, and made sure that he knew that she would catch him every time.

"Sorry…"

Moving on from the temporary setback, he set himself to bypass his revoked access privileges and hack directly into the vault's announcement feed in the security office. As he worked to bypass layers of security and functions that he helped design, Susie was working to keep Ms. DeLoria calm and finish her checklist. It was as Manuel was almost through his backdoor access when the situation changed dramatically.

Manuel's first warning that something was amiss besides the obvious alarm, was the sudden muffled sounds of yelling through the ringing of the alarms. The second one would be when Butch came crashing through the door covering in Radroaches and screaming as if one of the girls had given him a good kick in the balls.

Susie was the first to see the threat and immediately yelled to get Manuel's attention while pushing Ms. Deloria into the wall and lifting the clipboard as a shield. As Manuel spun in his rolling chair he took in the situation at a glance, many long experiments that had teetered between working and exploding had developed a quick mind and he made his decision quickly. Memories of Mikhail's bloody state and the loss of Joseph rang clearly through his mind.

Sliding off of his chair, he lifted the 35-pound piece of metal and heaved it at Butch. Granted, he could have picked up something else, but the chair was the only single object that was large enough to hit as many roaches as possible.

Picking the lamp up off of the desk and pulling the plug out of the wall, he approached with his weapon held high and the length of chord in the other hand to act as a whip.

Usually combating a large group of Radroaches would end with quite a number of minor injuries such as scratches and bruises. With a pistol in hand, the majority of those could be avoided by keeping your distance from the oversized insect. In this instance Manuel used the chord to knock away any roach that he could hit, and as a hold to retrieve the lamp when he threw it. Using the lamp/chord combo as a pendulum of sorts he tried to keep the roaches at bay as he grabbed the back of Butch's leather jacket and dragged the bloody boy away.

The one problem with trying to both drag someone away, and maintain a sweeping motion with a heavy ended pendulum, is that if any of the buggers decided to jump at you, you had to drop the damn thing to defend. Luckily for Manuel he was not alone in this endeavor.

As said beasty leapt with wings buzzing to cling to Manuel's face like a demented koala, it received the business end of the clipboard for its troubles. While Susie was ecstatic that her ploy had worked, the one problem with a wooden clipboard is that it has relatively low durability. So after one good hit, the only thing holding the two pieces together was that the paper was double clipped from the top and bottom.

Their attention diverted to the new threat, the remaining four living roaches scuttled around before edging towards them. Manuel could hear the sobs of the bleeding Butch behind them and the soft whimpers of his still recovering mother. He did not wait for the roaches to move first, instead he swung his makeshift weapon in order to scatter his opponents before immediately jumping into their midst.

The deadliest part of RadRaoaches was their strength in numbers and ability to breed quickly. Their exoskeletons were not particularly strong, a good kick could shatter the chitin, and their limbs were quite fragile. It was their resilience and swarming tactics that would prove to be the end of careless individuals. Many however, was not a careless individual as by scattering the roaches with his sudden presence he removed their instinctual unit cohesion. Then it was simply a matter of stomping and crushing them using his lamp.

By the time the pale yellow ichor had ceased to flow, and the concrete floor was littered with chunks of the former pests, Manuel and Suzie were both covered in the stains of the miniature massacre. Allowing the remains of the now bent and useless lamp to drop heavily to the ground, Manuel shared a glance with his girlfriend of two years before returning to the terminal to attempt to attain some semblance of knowledge over the situation.

As Suzie rifled through the room-standard med-kit to treat Butch's wounds until they could get him to the clinic, Manuel returned to hacking his way through the backdoor access within the vault system. Once through his Pip-Boy automatically displayed two notes; the first was a direct report of the many warnings that had been triggered in the system, and the second was a list…a list that would decide the course of the rest of his life.

**(-)**

"You should've stayed with them."

Both Manuel and Suzie were jogging at a quick pace through the Vault's corridors. When he had first viewed the list, Manuel could not believe that such a thing had been made. However, it did not matter. It did not matter that such an event should be impossible, it did not matter that the reason behind its creation was an event that had only been considered in their wildest fantasies. The only things that did matter were the names on the list, and the fact that his was one of them.

"And leave you alone? Fat chance of that!"

Suzie still maintained the sting of wit in her voice even as her muscles began to burn. Living in the vault had not done much for her stamina and the short brawl with the Radroaches was more than enough to wind her. Now, she tried to keep up with Manuel as they made a beeline to the clinic to get some answers from the only people he could think of, and even though the alarms were ringing the halls were strangely empty. The doors to many of the rooms were sealed, the residents and automatic systems closing them to provide a layer of protection from the infestation.

A smirk was his only response before his mouth fell into a grim line. He dreaded the thought of running into a member of the security forces. The accusations were harsh, the reasons faulty, and the methods terrifying. It was not a normal day when you name comes up in a list that warrants death as an acceptable method of capture.

Turning the last corner, Manuel peeked into the clinic through the window as he keyed open the door. He saw the prone bloodied form of Jonas lying before his desk next to an overturned chair. As the door hissed open, he darted inside towards the form of his wounded friend to aid him. He only made it two steps before a searing pain erupted across the side of his head and he was tossed to the side. Crashing into one of the rolling chairs, he tumbled over it before landing heavily on his shoulder. He rolled onto his back while clutching the side of his head as a hot fluid began to trickle down the side of his face. He could hear Suzie's scream as he attempted to sit up and get a bead on his attacker.

He watched uniformed form of Stevie Mack level his sidearm at him, the unforgiving barrel forming the single eye that would watch his demise. Manuel froze, how could he not? He had never faced death directly before, never faced another human being who intended to kill him. The worst he had suffered through was a few broken bones and a ricocheting BB.

He did not see his life flash before his eyes; he did not hear the voice of his mother. He only knew that as he stared into the instrument of his demise he felt ice lance down his back. He was frozen in place by fear, terrified by the idea of dying. The cruel smile on Stevie's face only widened as his finger tightened around the trigger, only to be tackled to the side by his sister.

Suzie had only been a short distance behind Manuel, but she had stayed longer at the window to view the fallen body of Jonas. It was Manuel's cry of pain that shook her from her stunned state and prompted her to run in after him. The scene that presented itself was one of nightmares. Her boyfriend lay on the ground bleeding from a gash on his head as her own brother pointed a weapon at him. She was about to speak, about to question his actions, when she saw his finger tighten on the trigger and the maniac smile widen across his face. This was not the face of the brother that she knew, of the kind older brother that she loved, so she followed through with the first action that came to mind. It was as she fell, her ears ringing from a blast of noise, and a blossoming pain in her side, that she heard something…the pained wail of her closest friend.

**(-)**

_She was hurt…he hurt her…gunshot wound to the lower left side…high and a through and through…possible damage to intestines and kidneys...no, not enough blood, too high for the appendix…prognosis…possibly minor to severe…_

All previous thoughts had ceased passing Manuel's mind except for two. Suzie was hurt, and it was his fault. Even as the pained cry exploded from his chest he acted. Looking back on the scene later he would call it an instinctual response that shaped the bones of the man he was to become. He had been frozen, he had been weak, he had been so consumed by his own fear that his treasured one had taken the fall for him. The freezing ice shattered into a blaze of rage that burst from his center; an unstoppable torrent that filled his limbs with burning energy, the newfound wave of emotion propelling him off of the ground and into his enemy.

Stevie had been staring at the fallen form of his sister in shock when he was launched off his feet and crashed into the door-side desk. He succeeded in looking up into the overhead lights as a face appeared. It was a familiar face, one that had been frozen in sweet fear just a moment ago, now contorted in rage as a fist descended from the glare of the light as if sent by god himself. It was his last organized thought that it should be impossible that the weakling inventor had managed to throw him. It was his last conscious thought that he had done something truly terrible. As his battered and bruised form fell into the darkness he could only register the sharp pains that echoed throughout his body, and the sharp metallic click that had once heralded his ability to decide fate not so long ago.

**(-)**

Manuel Saldivar stared down at the bloodied heap of a human that he would have called his brother. He could hear his blood roaring, he could feel his heartbeat in his throat, and several intermittent shakes that appeared every few seconds. The security armor prevented him from dealing any more damaging blows so he had attacked every exposed portion that he could reach. Stevie's helmet had been knocked off in the first few blows, nose broken quickly afterwards. The legs had been bludgeoned repeatedly in the two main pressure points with the baton that Manuel had pulled from its holster, along with the exposed shoulder joints, and a good knee to the groin for good measure.

Moving away from the heap, he crouched down to retrieve the fallen sidearm before half-racking the slide to ensure that a round was loaded before moving back to the bastard who had managed to roll off of the table and fall to the ground. He flicked the safety off and directed the sights so that the bastard's bloody face lay directly before him. He looked into the eyes of his formerly soon to be brother and looked for any emotion that remained. He wanted to see if his eyes held the same fear that he had felt, the sense of helplessness.

He saw none of that however, just a broken bleeding wreck whose eyes dulled with fading light, a sure sign of someone losing consciousness. His rage needed a direction, and output before he burst and did something else that he would regret…

…did he regret tearing down the feeling of invincibility that Stevie had gained by becoming an Officer? No. He regretted beating the brother of his girlfriend to a bloody pulp. His mind stopped…had he forgotten that his girlfriend had been shot? No he hadn't, his analytical mind and medical training from his mother had already determined, even as he moved to begin the beating, that the wound was not fatal simply quite painful at worst.

He glanced down to his side where a small red stained hole was in one of the loose folds of his jumpsuit. Suzie's self-sacrificial defense had slowed and redirected the bullet allowing him to escape unscathed except for a smattering of her blood on his suit.

As his mind settled and the fog of rage dispersed, he turned his attention to the one that should have been his focus immediately after the threat of Stevie had been removed. He looked into her frightened eyes as she clutched her bleeding side in pain and tried to stop the bleeding with some bandages from an open medical table. She was not afraid of her wound, but of what he had just been prepared to do. In a daze, he walked over to her and unconsciously slipped the pistol into the waistband of his belt. Kneeling down next to her he assessed the damage before reaching into the medical table's drawers and retrieving a Stimpack and some Med-X. Injecting the Stimpack into both sides of the affected area, he then injected the Med-X, followed by a two gauze pads secured in place by a roll of medical tape.

He looked up from his finished work into the face of his loved one, she had been crying. His face fell from its mask of concentration and a tension released itself from his muscles. He sagged in place as he tried to speak, tried to apologize, to explain…to say anything.

It was when he felt her hand on his check that he met her eyes before looking at her hand…it was wet. She had not been the only that had been crying, and as the pounding in his ears faded away he realized that the shakes he had experiencing were his own strangled sobs. He would have hugged her and allowed the tears to flow and the apologies to spill, but instead he rested his forehead against the side of the desk upon which she had propped herself up. He could not put weight on her wound, as though it did appear serious, the increased pressure could tear something that was already damaged, further increasing the seriousness of the wound and changing what would be painful to life threatening.

"What the hell happened here?"

There were very few voices that would force him to turn his head in such a situation. The most important of those was sitting in front of him, and the second was standing in the doorway to the clinic walking slowly towards him, her deep hazel eyes panning over the area in an instant.

"M-Mom…"

Her eyes widened as her calculating walk transformed into a hybrid of a jog and a jump before she settled right next to him. Her eyes turned serious as she examined the dressing and wound before turning to her son.

"I had hoped to find you before any of this happened, but it seems I was too slow." Looking up at him, she shook his shoulder before pointing at the body of Jonas. "Search him for anything that James might have left us, then pack a bag with whatever supplies you can get your hands on."

"Wha-?"

"Just do it!" she hissed before pulling one of Suzie's arms over her shoulder and helping her limp to one of the clinic's rear rooms and onto an examination table.

Manuel crawled over to Jonas and took one look before turning away from the grisly sight. Taking a deep breath he could feel the stench of blood and death coat his tongue and fill his nose. Jonas's face was a mess of cuts, bruises, much of it was swollen, and yet his expression was relaxed, Manuel could swear that there was the beginnings of a smirk on the corner of his mouth. The entry wound was ragged and was charred at the fringes. The exit wound was a jagged hole where the bullet had broken he skull and allowed the intracranial contents to spill out. Manuel felt disgusted at what he was about to do.

He did not want to disturb the body of his friend and part-time mentor, and yet what he knew of the current situation came to the forefront of his mind and he knew he had to continue. Rifling through Jonas's pockets, he found several Pip-Boy data chips, a written list of seemingly random items, and a small case that contained three Stimpacks and a dose of Med-X. The side of one of the chips was labeled "Note from Dad" and lacking a father himself, and knowing that Jonas's father had long since passed, he could assume that it was a message from the Doc; Mikhail's father.

"Are you done there", came the stinging voice of his mother, "Come over here and help me with this."

Scrambling to his feet Manuel winced as a dull pain traveled down his back, the results of being knocked to the ground and over a chair. Wiping away some of the fresher blood from his face, he came to a stop next to his mother who was unclipping the armor and other assorted gear from Stevie Mack.

"You girlfriend is fine, stunned, but fine." Pulling the body armor away from the prone officer she tossed it over to him gesturing for him to put it on. Wordlessly complying with her silent orders he felt the pressure on his mind lessen. As she continued to hand him different articles of the security uniform, he continued to put them on. Her attitude was not strange, it was still the same strong willed and forceful personality that she had always had. Only now instead of using it to force unruly patients into their beds, she was ordering him around. There had always been steel in her eyes, but now there was a cold and terrifying power behind them.

Walking briskly towards one of the medical cabinets she began to pull supplies from it and stack them orderly on one of the desks; bandages, Stimpacks, Med-X, surgical tubing, gauze, antiseptic. After amassing a small collection she went over to one of the desks and pulled out a satchel from beneath it. Storing all but a few supplies within, she left eh closed bag of medical supplies on the desk before approaching Manuel with several bandages, and a damp cloth.

"I know you don't understand what's going on right now, but right now I need you to listen to everything I say and do everything I tell you to do, understand?"

Not able to nod in reply as she cleaned his head wound with the alcohol soaked cloth and covered it in a bandages, he simply replied with a curt, "Yes Ma'am."

She smiled at him, some of the soul eating cold disappeared from her eyes, replaced with a motherly warmth, a warmth that promised pain if not obeyed. She stepped away from him and checked over the bandages before leading him to the back room she had placed Suzie in.

Suzie currently had the top half of her jumpsuit pulled down revealing her lightly muscled torso and white tank-top. Manuel would have started blushing if it weren't for the fact that the bottom left part of the shirt was stained red and her abdomen was wrapped in red dotted gauze. She gave him a small pained smile as she tried to push herself off the bed but was swiftly pushed back by a smiling Dr. Saldivar. Manuel smiled back as he reached over and enveloped her in a light hug, before pulling back and looking at his mother who had just laid the bag of medical supplies down on the desk by the examination table.

Taking a seat the aging doctor closed the door and blinds to the examination room before rubbing her temples and smearing a bit of her son's blood into her gray speckled brown hair. Pushing her glasses up on her sharp nose she regarded the two young people before her for a moment before speaking.

"James has left the vault, along with several others. They left to finish something that we failed to do long ago."

Manuel mulled over the statement quickly and made several connections. The report he had hacked that had come with the list of names mentioned that "The safety of the vault had been breached…" He had assumed that to be the Radroach infestation, and the part about 'traitors' being that James Jaeger and several others had had a hand in the event. Why however that that had caused a list to be made up of the names of him and his friends as well as their close family was not clear until now. If Mikhail's father had truly left the vault with several others then he could understand that perhaps this was a form of petty retribution against the instigators and the Overseer's longtime antagonist. The question was why had his mother not gone with them, as well as the fact that neither him nor any of his friends had known about the event.

_Perhaps we were never meant to be in any danger…plausible deniability…pity it didn't work._

_Wait…we?_

"Mom, what do you mean by 'we'?"

A short huff left her lips before she responded.

"I am not from the vault, and neither were you conceived within its walls. We…quite a few of us are from the wasteland beyond the door."

"It that why you never spoke about Dad except in passing? Why there was never any information about our grandparents?" At the surprised look on her face he continued.

"The six of us knew that there was something strange going on, and circumstantial evidence pointed to two possible conclusions. Either names were changed and quite a few records were deleted due to some power struggle over twenty years ago, or our families were relatively new additions to the vault inhabitants."

At his mother's raised eyebrow he continued, "I may or may not have hacked into old man Almodivar's terminal at one point during maintenance…and Mike may or may not have read a few of his Dad's journals when he was out doing rotations," he explained sheepishly.

"_Just like you father…"_ she mumbled under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

"Why didn't you go too?"

"What?"

Manuel stepped up to his mother and took the bag from the desk before slinging it over his shoulders.

"Why didn't you go with them?"

She gave Suzie a wry smile and coughed into one hand.

"Someone had to stay and make sure that the vault didn't go to hell," she said sadly, "but by the looks of things there was little we could do about that, damn that Alphonse."

"We?"

She nodded, "Only a few went with James. Jenny and Mark Allen, David Miller, Ivan and Melody. Your father and Danielle Miller never came to the vault with us. Danielle was killed shortly before Catherine, and your father…well he was being the stubborn ass that he usually was," she chuckled, "Knowing him, he's probably still alive, and either head or assistant head Scribe by now."

"Scri-?"

_***This is Overseer Almodivar, all security personnel are to report to the security office with any detainees that have been captured, and current orders remain unchanged.***_

All three individuals froze as the voice of their enemy crackled over the intercom.

Vanessa quickly pushed herself off the chair and began to tighten various straps across Manuel's gear, before pulling the sidearm from its holster, checking to see that it was loaded, resetting the safety and replacing it into the holster. The actions were coordinated and fluid, almost as if she done that same routine many times before.

"You need to go," she stated firmly, "I'll take care of Suzie and we'll be fine. After all what would this vault do without any doctors? Use Andy?"

Turning back to a slightly pale and shaking Suzie, Manuel gave her another hug, this one slightly loose to avoid aggravating her wound before giving her a light kiss.

"I'm going to find the others, then we're going to leave, finish whatever the oldies forgot to do, then I'm going to come back to you, and beat Almodovar over the head with a clipboard if Amata hasn't done so by then…stay safe alright? I love you."

She grabbed onto the pauldrons of the armor before yanking him down for a searing tongue-filled kiss that was almost desperate in its form and lasted almost ten seconds before lightly shoving him away, "I love you too, now get out of here before you get us all in more trouble than we already are."

Manuel managed to take half a step before he was yanked back by his sleeve and found himself staring into the hard eyes of his girlfriend, while his mother flashed him a sly smirk from over her shoulder.

"And you come back to me in one piece alright? Or we'll be having quite a few words."

'_Maybe I should've asked Paul hide those books…'_

He took one last look at the two most important women in his life before he turned and left, typing away a quick message to the others on his PipBoy before sending it out over the wireless. Moving away from the clinic at a brisk jog to where his room was, he met up with Miller and Frank who had just been coming up from Waste Management. They had read the message and followed Manuel to their residential block to retrieve any personal items that may be of some use in the outside world. There was only an active security force of fifteen members to cover the entire area of a vault meant to comfortably hold over a thousand people. Within ten minutes of reaching their rooms they had packed up all they could in single bags and were filling water bottles from the bathroom taps when their PipBoys pinged from another message.

_**PM From: Adrian I.**_

_**RE: Escape**_

_**Been busy with Paul, he's pretty banged up, Nothing major. Where to?**_

Manuel couldn't help the frown that came to his face at the mention of Paul being injured as he typed a reply. Had he encountered the other security officers? Where had he…_oh._ Last he remembered, Paul had been on a date with Christine Kendall and hadn't returned to his room the night before, and Christine's father was one of the Security Chiefs!

Since Paul was alive however, then that situation had probably already been dealt with. Manuel mentally kicked himself, because of this oversight they might have lost Paul as Officer Kendall was not the nicest of individuals and followed the Overseer's orders with a single-minded determination that could only be matched by Manuel's own manic inventive streak.

_**PM From Manny S.**_

_**RE: re: Escape**_

_**Lower Cb-Res Sec-Off**_

_**Heard from Mk/Am?**_

That made five of their group of seven accounted for, but where was their committee appointed leader, and his witch?

_**PM From Adrian I.**_

_**RE: re(2): Escape**_

_**Got it. No.**_

_Well balls…_

_**PM From Mikhail J.**_

_**RE: Still Alive**_

_**Meet you there.**_

_Well that certainly makes things a bit easier…_

{-}

_**Mikhail**_

_*Pant…pant…pant*_

_Never…again…_

Mikhail was in a sorry state as he rounded one of the few remaining corners on his way to the rendezvous with his friends. He was winded, sore, and had a slight limp as he rushed through the winding corridors and raced up a staircase. While normally he would have already been at the RV point almost six minutes prior, but with the Radroach infestation and the partial security lockdown many of the quick routes through the vault had been sealed. It had a trying fifteen minutes of running starting from the second he had left his room.

The moment his boot had crossed the threshold of his door, his escape had almost been ended by a descending police baton to the back of the head. Only a few rare circumstances had saved him, the first being the odd hair raising feeling on the back of his neck which had caused him to only take a half step out the door leaving him only partially exposed. The second was that his intended path had been to take the corridor to his right, so his first move upon exiting the door was to check his left. The third and most important one, was the _whooshing _sound that the baton made while traveling down onto the back of his unsuspecting cranium. It was vaguely reminiscent of the sound of a wooden leg of one of the old school desks coming down onto his back courtesy of one Jonathan Miller during a free-for-all spar. This caused him to instinctively rock back on his heels and therefore only the bill of his cap was hit, temporarily blinding him. What followed however was anything but chance.

The expected result of an unconscious nineteen year old vault resident was not to be an easy one for Security Officer Simmons. Instead of a solid blow landing on the head of one of the Vault traitors and leaving him incapacitated long enough to be solidly detained, he found himself lying on the concrete floor staring into the barrel of a security issue 10mm pistol, his hands empty of his baton, and excruciating pain radiating throughout his manly bits.

What happened was a fairly simple disarming maneuver which included setting the opponent off balance, and using their momentum to floor them. The offset position of Mikhail's pivot point however led to quite the unfortunate point of contact, which led directly to the current situation. Simmons's pain did not last long however, as in his pain induced haze he barely felt the slight pressure on both sides of his neck before a feeling of numbness descended over his mind and he passed out.

The moment said officer was out, Mike set about taking everything he could off of him before subduing the man within his own room. It only took three minutes, but by then he had a set of security armor, helmet, an extra pistol, and magazines.

Shortly after that, he came across Officer Gomez and the robotic assistant Andy toasting a group of radroaches. While Mike had been tense on his feet, he had been relieved to be let off by Gomez, and gave the man a quick goodbye and half-salute before informing him of the plight of his fellow officer. The next ten minutes had been spent dodging around patrolling officers and smiting any Radroaches he came across. He had only been using his baseball bat so far, in order to work out some of his building frustration at the situation while saving his bullets.

He did not know the cause of his father's leaving, or the reason behind the Overseer's irrational orders, but he was getting sick and tired of all the jeers and snide comments made by various vault dwellers hidden safely behind the 1.5 inch Plexiglas windows of their rooms.

_Damn bastards just love to run their mouths when they think they're safe from retaliation._

Mikhail kept jogging and had almost taken a step into the main Atrium when he froze at the sound of voices before him.

_Who…_

He rested his back against the wall and slipped the pistol out of its holster while flipping off the safety. As he peered around the edge of the open door two words rang true from an old military manual that he had read.

_Killbox…Crossfire_

The Atrium was a wide open space with an exposed second floor and had the main tunnel to the Vault Entrance. You could get almost anywhere from the Atrium, and it made the perfect chokepoint to defend from invading forces. The only evidence to counteract the theory that the Overseer had created a killbox was that the majority of the Security personnel were out looking for them, but it would be foolish to assume that he had left the main entrance unguarded.

Peeking around the corner he watched as two individuals were whispering frantically to each other as they hid behind a pillar.

_If the Doc…we need…we can too!_

_Idiots!_

Mikhail rushed around the corner and sprinted towards the two soon to be dead Vault escapees. He managed to shove Mary Holden back against the pillar eliciting a small yelp from the woman before he grabbed onto the back of her husband's jumpsuit and yanked him off his feet as a double-_crack _of shots rang out.

Even as the two men fell to the ground, Mikhail's pistol rose to point at the two officers positioned near the far door and fired three times. He didn't expect any of the rounds to hit, he just needed them to be distracted for the moment as he grabbed the young man and forcibly pulled him out of sight firing two more shots as he went. He could hear Mary's cry for her husband's close call followed by the cry of pain from down the hall.

He shoved Tom against the wall as he frantically searched the surrounding area and second floor for any other guards. Finding none he turned back to the two residents about to berate them only to stop at the sight of Mary frantically patting down her husband for any signs of injury as tears ran down her face. Mikhail wasn't going to waste time on calming them down. Any nearby officer would have heard the shots if the two hadn't called for backup already.

"Hey!" He snapped harshly at the two reckless individuals, the blades of ice in his tone sharply turning their attention towards him. "You want to get out of here alive?" At their jerky nods he continued before pointing at himself and the door. "Then you _will_ listen to and stay _behind_ me."

He didn't wait to see if they agreed instead rolling to his feet and rushing towards the door to the entrance hall. Taking a quick peek around the corner to check on the two security guards he froze. One of the officers laying flat on his back on the ground his helmet lying behind him and groaning. The second officer was sitting against the wall, his face pale and his breathing quick and shallow holding both hands to the side of his neck as blood seeped out from between his fingers.

Running up to the two officers Mikhail quickly picked up both of their sidearms before checking on the groaning officer first. He was staring blankly at the ceiling and his eyes were unfocused. _Concussion. He's down._

Disregarding the officer who was at worst a very mild threat, he turning to the bleeding officer whose blood had now soaked into the top part of his jumpsuit, his eyes fixed on the pistol still in the youth's hand.

Holstering the pistol and locking the strap into place, Mikhail dropped down next to the officer to check the wound as the Holden's checked the door, with Mary pausing for a moment before turning green at the sight of the blood.

"O'Brian let me see it," Mike grabbed onto the man's hands and slowly pulled them away from the wound, hissing at the sight of the torn flesh and oozing blood. It wasn't as bad as he had feared, the bullet had not hit any of the major arteries but it still left a bad gash. As he pulled a few medical supplies from his cargo pockets O'Brian spoke.

"Y-you…the Overseer," he swallowed nervously, "your father, w-we…"

"Can it mate, I'm trying to save your life here." Mikhail gripped a gauze pad between his teeth as he injected a Stimpack into the side of the wound before squeezing a bit of antiseptic into it, placing the gauze pad, and then securing it with some tape. Placing the officer's hands back onto the wound he packed away the supplies and slowly stood as the Holden's returned from checking the door. "Keep pressure on that, and get up the clinic as soon as you can, hopefully there's someone there that can help you." Helping the officer to his feet, he gave him a push towards the Atrium.

Turning to the couple, he quirked an eyebrow and jerked his head in the direction of the door. "Locked isn't it?"

At their shaky nods, he huffed slightly before gesturing for them to follow him as he followed after the officer, only instead of heading deeper into the Vault, he turned left and made for the stars to the second floor, the couple following close behind.

"Keep up."

If someone had stopped him to ask exactly why he was acting so aloof to the situation, he wouldn't have been able to say much more than a single word. _Adrenaline._ His emotions felt deadened and his mind was darting to each and every possible thought that could manage to flit through his consciousness as his eyes followed every little movement that they caught.

Up the stairs and to the Overseer's office. He could see the circular window that faced directly into the office, but first he had to travel through the Vault's peripheral server hub. With the Holden's following close behind, he reloaded the pistol and took careful steps into the room. The first thing he saw was the body lying next to a toolbox and a wrench. He couldn't recognize the face as it was covered in blood, but he could clearly see that the front of the poor man's throat had been torn open and there were several dead Radroaches lying near him. He approached the man and quickly identified him as Floyd Lewis before turning to the toolbox and pulling it open. He quickly pocketed a bottle of Wonderglue, a conductor, and a small roll of money, he wouldn't need it.

A gasp from Mary was the only warning he had as a roar caused him to look up at Security chief Hannon bearing down on him with a baton. He barely put his hand up to ward off the blow as he fell onto his back and lifted his knees to his chest. The hard impact onto his forearm caused him to wince as he shoved his boots into the officer's gut and used his free hand to grab onto the neck of his jumpsuit and toss him overhead.

Rolling to his side and cradling his smarting arm to his chest he raised his right arm into a guard position to-

_Whack!_

Mikhail blinked dumbly at the sight of the still body of Officer Hannon with Tom standing over him, wrench in hand. Shaking off his surprise and lowering his arm, Mikhail picked up his pistol and slowly flexed his injured arm as he moved onward. It was sure to bruise later but he couldn't stop to administer a Stimpack yet. Officer Hannon rarely left the Overseer's side during times of crisis, which meant that _he _was nearby. The Security Office where his friends were was nearby as it was accessed by a secondary stairway, the overseer's quarters and office was only a short walk away.

He knocked on the door to the Security Office before calling out "One Badger plus two cubs!"

(-)

_**Mikhail 1**__**st**__** P-POV**_

Inside the office five people who I was very relieved to see. Manuel was off near the lockers and packing several backpacks full of whatever he thought they would need along with Adrian who was busy picking each and every lock he could find and pulling out any goodies he thought were worth looking at. Francisco 'Frank' Sanchez was with Jonathan Miller as they helped Paul Allen into a set of Security Armor and set a brace on his leg. All of them wear wearing armor, some minus the helmets, and there were already several bags loaded with supplies off to one side.

At the sound of the knocks both Manny and Adrian had paused in their gathering to pull their sidearms and cover the door as Miller and Frank had prepared to pull Paul behind a desk. At the confirmation call and the sight of their friend, they had relaxed and quickly resumed their work as Manuel tied closed the bag he was working on, making it four that were prepared, and approached Mikhail, only slightly glancing at the Holdens who were standing frozen at the door.

" 'Sky*, grab two more vests and helmets for the cubs would'ya?"

Adrian simply grunted in response before moving to one of the armor lockers and digging out another pair.

"You know what's going on Mike?" came the inquisitive call from Frank as he tightened a strap on Paul's armor. Paul wincing slightly as he flexed his leg and scratched at a bandage on his cheek, his hair looking slightly singed and a dusting of soot on his face.

"I got the gist of it from Amata when she woke me up, and from some of the other residents as they yelled at me when I passed their windows. Manny?"

Running a hand through his hair, Manuel sighed before speaking.

"We don't have much time, and you probably know most of this so I'll be quick."

He moved to help Adrian with dressing the Holdens in the Security armor while he explained.

"Some of our parents have left the Vault following your dad, and now the Overseer is coming down hard on us. He put out a hit list that has the names of all Badgers here and most of our parents with capture orders, and a few marked with death as an acceptable method of capture."

My stomach clenched at the news. The list was news for me but the rest I knew already. It was also painfully apparent that we knew next to nothing of the situation except for these facts. Also it looked like I wouldn't have as hard a time of convincing my friends to come with me after all.

"Got it…damn." I leaned against the wall and slowly massaged my temples as I tried to make sense of this, but my questions remained the same as when Amata had first woken me up. It looked like we wouldn't be finding out anything new until we actually got out of the Vault.

"So who's staying?" I asked just to get it out of the way. Everyone in the room shook their heads except for Manuel and Adrian.

"Guys?"

"Both our mom's are staying and we never had fathers to begin with."

"And any of our significant others?"

Paul hung his head slightly and Manuel flinched. Manuel was the first to speak up.

"Suzie caught a bullet from that bastard brother she has, nothing serious mind you, but bad enough that she can't come with. Christine and her family are safe in a neighbor's room last we checked. Paul got caught in bed with her when this mess started and almost got clocked by Kendall. Then he jumped into a fire to save her mother and little Monica."

"You okay Paul?"

He smiled and coughed slightly before hopping of the table.

"Just a little crispy brother, nowhere near as bad as that time Miller tried to make Fried-Roach."

"Oi!"

We all shared a light laugh before Adrian came up and handed the Holdens a couple of batons.

"What about Amata mate?"

I shook my head, a sad smile tugging at my lips.

"She's gonna try an' fix this mess once we're gone, and we need someone to let us back in when this whole thing is solved and ol' Alphonse steps down."

Turning back to the Holdens, I gestured towards the rest of my group.

"You two still going to follow us, or do you want to turn back?"

The two looked at each other, and I wish I could say that some deep heartfelt words and feelings were passed between their gazes, but I'm no mind-reader. Only a few seconds passed before Mary nodded and Tom turned back to us.

"You guys are our best chance of getting out of here alive. We'll keep going."

I released a long breath to loosen my muscles before looking at everyone. Their eyes held fear and uncertainty, but behind it all, there was a determination to continue.

"K'then, everyone who can, grab a bag and let's go. Manny you're behind me, Adrian you're on point, Frank you've got Paul, Miller," I pointed at the Holdens, "they're with you."

There was a sort of organized chaos as the bags were tossed around and we checked ourselves over, before setting up at the door. I took one more glance back to make sure that everyone was ready, before pulling my pistol and hitting the switch to the door.

(-)

The Overseer's Office was only few turns down from the Security Office and it didn't take us very long to get to the door. There were no windows by the door, and it was soundproofed so we had no idea what was inside. It could be just old man Almodovar by himself, or he could have all the remaining security officers with him.

There were a total of fifteen officers currently employed, but I had taken care of four and Gomez let me go, Manny had gotten Stevie, Frank and Miller had gotten two, and Paul and Adrian had also taken down two. That made nine officers taken down with only six left up and running. I had also bypassed 3 officers in the lower levels during my detour; that made three.

"Manny check the door."

I stood behind Manny as he cracked the door with his PipBoy and Adrian stood on the other side with his pistol held in front of his face. He was the best shot in our group with a pistol, and I came in second, with Manny on third. The others only had experience with my BB gun whenever we would go down to the reactor level to clear out some roaches for fun.

We didn't actually need to kill anyone, just suppress them long enough to get into close quarters. The six of us excelled in hand to hand, even if it was self-taught, but Paul was injured and Miller was watching the Holdens. If we could get into close quarters we would probably be able to subdue everyone in that room, but there's always the chance that something could go wrong. So here's to hoping that the armor will prevent lethal shots on both sides.

"Door's unlocked, waiting on you."

Adrian gave me a nod before counting down from five by flashing his hand.

_Five…_

_Four…_

_Three…_

_Two…_

_One…_

_Go!_

The door hissed open and before it had even reached three-fourths of the way, the two of us were already inside guns drawn and pointed down range.

"I told you I don't…"

My eyes widened at the voice, it was instantly recognizable to me after all; I had woken up to it quite a few times. Eyes darting across the room I immediately picked out three figures, and only one was in Security Armor. Even as my eyes focused on Amata and her father, Adrian was already leaping forward in a flat sprint to intercept the officer.

Time seemed to slow as I observed the situation. Adrian had already covered a third of the distance to the officer. Alphonse currently had his hands tight around Amata's arms restraining her as he shoved her into the Overseer's quarters.

By the time Adrian had crossed a little over half the distance, the officer, who I recognized as Jaclyn Turner had already recognized the threat and was already drawing her sidearm. She would have it fully drawn only a second before Adrian's shoulder charge connected, but a second is all that's needed for something to go wrong.

My weapon was already drawn and leveled, and as my sights settled onto my target, everything seemed to freeze in place. I had maybe a one in three chance of hitting my specific target, but even if I didn't, then the shot would still serve as a distraction long enough for Adrian to make contact. Time unfroze as my finger tightened around the trigger and the weapon rocked in my hand. Instinctively I knew that the recoil had knocked off my aim, just like when I had shot at O'Brian and his partner, my shot went higher than I had aimed. The bullet would hit her hand instead of her weapon. But even as I watched the small glint of light that betrayed the bullet's path, she flinched in response to the sound of the gunshot in close quarters bringing her weapon up that much faster. In a way, the recoil had ensured that my shot would hit my intended target, just not how I had intended it to.

_Living beings are not static targets; they react to external stimuli just like the shooter does…_

I filed away the thought for later as I watched the pistol tear out of her hand moments before Adrian's armored shoulder made contact with her armored stomach. I watched as her eyes bugged out from behind the faceplate of her helmet, and her body contorted to the sudden impact. Even as the two fell to the ground in what was to be a very short lived tussle, my aim was already shifting towards the main antagonist of these events.

I watched as Amata fell into the room her eyes wide with recognition as the door closed before her. Her eyes held hope and yet also a budding fear. Her father on the other hand had very different emotions. His eyes were simmering with fury, his hand instinctively going to the pistol that used to be on his belt, the pistol that I was currently holding in my hands.

I kept the pistol trained on the man as he settled to face me straight on. We stared each other down, he who showed not an ounce of fear, and I, who beheld him as an officer would a stain on a pristine uniform. I listened to the remains of the scuffle as Adrian handcuffed Jaclyn and then proceeded to sit on her back to prevent her from moving. She wasn't a bad person, in fact Amata considered her to be an older sister figure. At twenty years old she was two years older than Amata, and one of her few confidants, which was probably the whole reason the Overseer had her drafted into the Security forces immediately after taking the G.O.A.T.

She was a reluctant spy and when she had revealed that she was being used to keep tabs on Amata it had put quite a strain on their friendship. Of course with Paul's bleeding heart, my devolving relationship with Amata, and the others' wish to screw with the big guy, we had assisted in patching up the relationship and causing a few minor annoyances. Granted, this put even more strain on the relationship between father and daughter, but after reaching thirteen years of age Amata rarely saw her father as anything but 'The Overseer' anymore.

I could feel the eyes of my group on me as the rest of them filed into the office, with Miller locking the door behind them. With my weapon trained on the only true obstacle left in our path, I had the power to make the next decision. I could remove the obstacle, or I could work around it.

_What would Amata want?_

I could almost chuckle at the thought. It was such a small thing, and yet it was who was involved with such a thought that granted it such sway in my mind. According to Paul, it was Amata who readily willing to reconcile with her father should he take the first step. It was the case of an overprotective parent that would not listen to any opinion except their own, not even their own child's. Would I deny her that chance? Was it this man that truly held all of my hatred?

No.

In fact, this whole situation did not truly spawn any true hatred within me. Anger, yes. Frustration, most definitely. Hatred? No, the only one who I held any sort of hatred towards was Stevie Mack, the one who had executed Jonas. But knowing Manny and the events that led to his rendezvous with the rest of us, he would have beat Stevie to within an inch of life. Manny had never been the most stable us in regards to his emotions. Sure, with meditation he could clamp down on them quite well, and even channel them into motivation for his work, but when the dam broke…well…

"I take you're not here to surrender then?"

I almost broke out laughing at the absurdity of his statement as I lowered my weapon and reholstered it.

"I don't think that's really an option anymore Sir." I held out my hand. "The key to your office and password please."

"Oh is that all? Is there anything else I can get you while you're here?" I could practically feel the sarcasm that laced his tone. "You'll get nothing from me. I'll die before I see the safety of this Vault compromised again," he spat.

I lowered my hand back to my side and shook my head slightly before glancing over at Manny and Adrian. Adrian got my meaning almost instantly and immediately got off of his prisoner before hauling her upright and sitting her down into a chair before heading over to the office door, pulling out his lock picking tools as he went, with Manuel following after him.

"Give us ten minutes at the most, tovarishch."

Turning back to the Overseer, I cocked my head and held an innocent expression as I gestured at the two with a jerk of my head.

"Looks like we'll escape without you help then. Then again, we're not the ones that started senselessly killing people."

"Save your sanctimony. I'll do whatever it takes to keep the vault safe, nothing is more important!"

"You pitiful old man, I'll never see why Amata still cares for you." I tried to put as much ice as I could into my tone before stepping forward and giving the man a hard shove that sent him stumbling back into the other open residential room.

Hitting the door control I quickly twisted the panel off before jamming the opening mechanism. Being a technician makes you aware of all the small tips and tricks of the machinery that you're working with. That and a three year long prank cold war with my father. At the sound of a door opening I turned back to face my two friends as Adrian cracked the door.

"Adrian, grab everything you think might be interesting. Manny, copy over everything on his terminal after you open the tunnel. If our parents were not born in the Vault then there must be records of when they entered."

"Aye."

"Got it."

Pointing at the others I gestured through the door.

"The rest of you get through the tunnel as soon as it's open."

The sounds of shuffling and light grunting as they made their way through the small door and into the even smaller room were the only indications that they were following my orders as I turned to the last of the four doors, and the entrance to the only other residential unit of the Overseer's quarters.

The door had been locked from the outside using a key which was still inserted into the slot below the door controls. After disengaging the lock, I hit the door release and took a few steps inside, scanning the room for my friend.

Amata was sitting on her bed with her head in her hands, and instantly brought her head up to look at who had entered her room. I could see the tear tracks that ran down her face and the flush that colored her naturally darker skin tone. A smile was the first expression to come to her face, but her eyes were heavy with apprehension at her lack of knowledge of what had transpired beyond the door.

"Your father is still an ass, but he's fine. I locked-"

I didn't really get much farther as she leapt off of the bed and crashed into me, burying her face into my shoulder…my uncomfortable armored shoulder.

"Thank you! I told you my father wasn't himself!"

"Once more, and I quote, 'You father is still an ass,'."

She chuckled lightly as she looked up and gave me a light peck on the lips.

"Yeah I know, but he's still my father. The stress of everything that's happened, along with his high blood pressure and constantly looking to find every little thing that's wrong in the Vault is really getting to him."

"You say 'wrong', as in wrong to him right?"

"Of course!"

She hugged me tighter as her tears started to flow once more.

"Y-you'd better get g-going. Before my father starts calling every guard he can get down on you."

I couldn't help but hold her a bit tighter at the thought, my thumb trailing a line down her spine as I listened to her repressed sobs. We stayed that way for a few minutes until Manny popped through the door and jerked his thumb towards the main office before leaving.

"I'll try to see you guys off, but if I can't…" she pulled me down slightly before clamping her lips over mine. I had just started to kiss back when I felt the tip of her tongue flick against my teeth, prompting me to open them. Our tongues began to fight over control of whose mouth would be the battleground of our increasingly heated kiss as I pulled her body tight against mine, with the damn armor still in the way. after a few more seconds we separated and she tried to hug me for all she was worth, but my armored frame was just a bit too wide for her.

"I won that one," came her snarky remark as she lightly pushed off of me.

"I don't think so little missy." I retorted with a crooked smile.

"I'm going to miss this."

"You've still got the folder I gave you?"

"It's right under my mattress, why?"

"I'm sure some of the stories I left you will keep you entertained."

Her blush was all I needed as she gave me a shove towards the door.

"Get out damn you!"

"Hahaha! I'll be back before you know it."

She leaned against her door with a sad smile as she raised her hand in farewell.

"I'll be waiting."

I turned on my heel and started a quick march to the tunnel. I knew that if I turned back it would only be harder to leave. I looked over to my right where Adrian was un-cuffing Jaclyn and gave her a reassuring clasp on the shoulder.

_Probably apologizing for the rough handling…_

He joined me as the two of us ducked down the stairs and jogged through the tunnel.

(-)

"So that's the Vault door huh?"

We were staring at the giant gear shaped door with the yellow emblazoned _**101 **_on its surface.

"Who wants to hit the switch?"

"Me! Me!"

Miller who was already standing near the switch immediately pulled the lever and stepped back as the bright yellow light began to flash and the giant mechanism began to move.

"They're opening the Vault door! We need this door open now!"

_Two more then…_

Myself and Adrian along with Miller who were all standing nearest the back of the group spun around and pulled our sidearms and pointed them at the door directly behind us. We could hear the screeching and grinding of metal as the giant door was pulled out of place and moved to the side.

_Tap…Tap…Tap_

I glanced to the side where Adrian and I had just come through and saw Amata watching us through the window. She put her hand against the Plexiglas and mouthed _'Goodbye'_. I returned a smirk and mouthed back, _'I still won that one'_ she blushed angrily and flipped me off through the window.

'_Heh, still cute.'_

'_Love you too,' _I mouthed before the door before us opened revealing two more officers; both however were only armed with batons. They froze almost immediately upon the sight of both the Giant door lying open, and the three pistols pointed at them.

One of them overcame the surprise quickly and bravely took a step forward; I recognized Officer Wolfe as he put his baton away and put his arm out in front of his partner.

"Get going," he said gruffly while jerking his helmeted head towards the door.

We took our first steps towards the door, and then those at the front of the group quickly exited past the door. We three of the rearguard holstered our weapons before following suite glancing back as the door closed behind us. We couldn't go back anymore. The only way to go now was forwards.

We walked down the tunnel and warily glanced at the skeletons that seemed to be crawling towards the door, and the rickety wooden door that lay at the end of the tunnel.

"Poor bastards were probably trying to make it into the Vault when the bombs fell."

Manny's idle remark, while crass, fully explained just what we were going to experience on our journey beyond the relative safety of our Vault. As the door opened and we felt our first taste of the unforgiving blaze that was the sun we took our first steps out into the world known as the Capital Wasteland.

We _'Poor Bastards'_ really had no idea what we were getting into.

_**(Please note that the following perks are applicable to all Main Characters unless specified otherwise)**_

_**Perks Acquired:**_

_**(All)Intense Training:**_

_**Your intense self-taught physical and mental training have made you a force to be reckoned with.**_

_**+2 to Str/Agl/Per**_

_**(P-MK-AD)Lady Killer:**_

_**Your years of working closely with the opposite sex have granted you a unique understanding to how they work. All those Romance novels never hurt either.**_

_**(All)Swift Learner:**_

_**Your intelligence and resourcefulness allow you to greatly reduce the learning curve required to learn new skills.**_

_**(All)Educated:**_

_**Your wide range of knowledge will come in handy during the journey ahead.**_

_**[-]**_

_**Achievements Unlocked:**_

_**Here's your progress so far!**_

_**Vault 101 Citizenship Award:**_

_**You've received your very own PipBoy 3000 and are ready to take on your first Vault responsibilities. Hope you're ready for it.**_

_**The G.O.A.T. Whisperer**_

_**Congratulations! You've passed the infamous G.O.A.T., just remember question 10!**_

_**Escape!**_

_**You've managed to Escape the Vault! **_

_**Welcome to Hell.**_

_**AN:**_

_**Well I'm back. For those who came to this story based on your follows and Favs, from my previous story this is where the story truly begins.**_

_**I took down my previous stories because I had jumped too far ahead and the story-lines and characters were still settling in my head.**_

_**If anyone has any comments to make please feel free to leave me either a review or a PM. Don't be shy either, sometimes even the most vile of criticism can help you improve.**_

_**If anyone happens to find areas where things don't match up, or something appears to be missing, please let me know by PM and I will see about correcting it as soon as I can.**_

_**-S-111**_


End file.
